Fate, Alchemy, and Bridges
by DragonAgnstEvil
Summary: Leaving his home and friends behind was the hardest decision in his life. Is he regretting it now? The Gate was destroyed so he didn't have a way to return, but could hope come from an old enemy? Rated for Violence and Suggestive Scenes
1. Prologue

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Full Metal Alchemist or any cannon characters or storyline. I do own any introduced (aka: new) characters and storylines. I also own my own lazy state-of-affairs and unusual sense of humor. I reserve the right to only put the disclaimer with the prologue, but it carries over to all chapters henceforth. I also do not own your personality. You are to enjoy or not enjoy this at your leisure. I also reserve the right not to care that this story contains spoilers. In other words, you shouldn't read this if you don't know as much of the cannon story as I do.

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**Full Metal Alchemist:  
Fate, Alchemy, and Bridges**

Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye was a woman with a distinguished record. She served under Colonel Roy Mustang, also known as the Flame Alchemist. The latter was still considered a traitor and an exile. He found his own way of serving Amestris by operating with the police force in a town far to the north near the border with Dorakuma, a hotly debated border. He made a temporary return to Central, but he fled after the strange incidents involving moving armors and flying machines, a technology not thought to exist.

The reason the woman walked down the streets was to explain these occurrences. As she walked into one of the many government buildings contained within Central, her mind flooded with the possible inquiries and how she would best answer. She didn't hesitate to walk straight up to the receptionist's desk. The middle-aged man sitting behind the desk looked up at the blond Lieutenant with dull eyes and graying hair. Riza didn't bother to take in the man's features as she set the official summons on the desk.

After a few moments studying the paper, he made a call. As the man picked up the phone to call the person currently considered the most powerful man in the military, she made a guttural growl. She didn't like the idea of anybody but Roy Mustang holding that position. Though, the position of Fuhrer was technically unfilled. When Fuhrer King Bradley was killed by the Mustang, a huge political shift occurred.

Riza's musings were forcibly cut short when the middle-aged receptionist's gruff voice announced General Kelly Westford would see her. She nodded in acknowledgement and silently strode to the General's door. She didn't like the man, and she never pretended to. He was also known as the Glass Alchemist, which was a surprisingly weak name for how utterly devastating his chosen alchemy was. He wasn't a sadist, of that she was sure. She knew he was a war hero, but, unlike Mustang, he didn't regret fulfilling even his most gruesome orders to the best of his abilities.

When the door opened, she gave the man sitting behind the desk a cold glower. He wore a smirk across his aging features. He looked every bit the sixty-seven year old he was. As politics has the tendency to do, bureaucracy caused time to be a cruel mistress. His features were overly wrinkled, and he had no hair atop his scalp. He wore thick glasses over his dull-gray eyes. With undue confidence, he rested his chin neatly over folded hands, and he barely gestured with his pinky for her to sit down.

Riza was careful to turn as she walked to stand before his desk, so one side of her face was hidden as an angry twitch worked to betray her disdain. She stood at attention in front of the seat offered to her before acknowledging him with a callous, if perfect, salute. When he merely nodded his head, she took at ease and sat. This meeting was already becoming one she'd sooner forget. The seat was comfortable, at least, and the room was Spartan enough. The only decorations adorning the room were old war trophies. She stifled a scoff. The room had no personality at all.

Westford let a long sigh roll from slightly parted lips. His eyes rested on hers through his thick glasses which made her wonder at the rumors of their sightlessness. "I hear you want to make a case for reinstating Roy Mustang?" His voice was as heavy and thick as the bags under his eyes. She didn't bother to pick her words. "He's done more to serve this country than anybody I know, sir." She almost paused before adding the honorific, but her military training was far too well ingrained.

The smirk disappeared off his face as he continued to look at her. Following protocol and a general disdain for the man before her, she wasn't about to speak without being spoken to, first. She answered his question, and she'd await further cues to speak. Westford, on the other hand, had plenty to say as he casually continued. "Roy Mustang was dishonorably discharged on counts of murder and insubordination." He paused to gauge Hawkeye's reaction.

He was disappointed when none came, so he continued. "He killed the former Fuhrer which plunged this country into chaos. Amestris might not have even survived if the Consulate wasn't immediately formed and an end to hostilities with the Ishvalans declared." Again, he paused, but his eyes dared her to speak. She remained silent, and he was forced to continue when the silence became awkward. His smirk broadened when his mind formulated words to directly attack her pride. "That man is nothing more than an uncivilized menace, and he'll bring nothing but ruin to Amestris."

Riza felt the heat rise in her face. She barely controlled an angry twitch from displaying itself at her lips, and she had to bite her tongue from lashing out at this uncouth General. A sigh emanated from his throat as his lips closed. He was sure she'd fall into his trap. His eyes narrowed as he resumed his rant. "Nonetheless, the Consulate is considering rescinding his discharge." He noticed the light in her eyes, but he was again surprised by her stubbornness to remain silent.

Westford decided to lay one more trap. "I, however, am in opposition to such drivel, and I have stated as such to the Consulate. I've heard rumors that Roy Mustang is residing near our border with Dorakuma, and I can't believe he'd go to such a hotly debated border without cause. I believe he has sold military secrets…" He watched as her eyes became positively livid during his speech of accusations, but he continued unabated. "…to spies from Dorakuma placed in that region. He has done this, of course, as insurance. His actions are utterly for his own self interest. He killed Fuhrer King Bradley for his own ambitions, but he ran when he realized he'd been caught."

For her part, Riza was holding back very well. If he were any other man, she would already have her pistol drawn with safety off. As it was, she barely restrained her hand from removing the clasp which held the pistol in its leather case. Her breathing was all but ragged from anger, and she knew she was doing a terrible job of keeping her emotions from displaying on her face. She swallowed and released her tongue before she threatened to draw blood. She had no desire to commit suicide and give this man the pleasure he sought.

Westford finally raised a brow with his unusual inquisitive look. He was only able to gleam so much from her expressions and body language. Her livid eyes notwithstanding, she displayed no reaction he could use. He finally decided to give her a question she could answer. "Do you have anything to say on his behalf?" To this, it was her turn to wear a confident smile. Unlike her superior, her smile was more reserved and barely displayed.

"I do, sir." She started slowly. She wanted to watch his every reaction. Unlike her, he didn't know how to hide his emotions very well. "Sir, I can assure you that Mustang hasn't sold any state secrets. He holds this country in his highest esteem. He also isn't about to leave any subordinates behind, and, believe me, he still has comrades willing to serve and die for him. He isn't about to leave his men behind, and I am someone he would be the first to tell if he were planning such heinous actions."

Riza paused and didn't allow a smirk to cross her features. As she predicted, Westford's face was contorted in all manner of annoyance. "His record speaks for itself. Though he disapproved orders given to kill innocent civilians, he carried them out to ensure the safety of his men and his country. He is a decorated war hero, and his skills are known far and wide. Dorakuma, Aelgo, Xing, and Crata wouldn't rest on their laurels if they thought there was even the slightest hint of such a well-versed Alchemist returning to the ranks of Amestris military commanders…" She paused to let the General realize his face was twitching. "…sir."

He felt his brow furrow before rubbing the bridge of his nose, which caused his glasses to lean uncomfortably against his forehead. After a moment, he regained his composure and reached to one side of his desk. She watched carefully as he picked up a particularly thick manila folder. Once he placed it in front of himself, he opened it to reveal the contents. Her eyes went wide as she immediately recognized some of items, particularly photographs, he was slowly spreading out on his desk.

Riza's gaze fell, one-by-one, upon pictures of familiar scenes. She saw the underground city which lay beneath King Bradley's mansion. She saw close-up images of the strange transmutation circle etched across its center. She saw Wrath fighting at such inhuman speeds that he actually appeared in five different spots on the still image. She saw chimera, Lust, Greed, and, finally, Pride and Sloth. All but the last two occupied separate photographs. _"Did Central really have this extensive a level of intelligence on them?"_

Her thoughts were interrupted when Westford cleared his throat. "I assume you know what these are?" Riza nodded her head in agreement. "Good. It saves some explaining. While I do not agree with you or the Consulate, I have been reviewing these…findings." She eyed him suspiciously as he reached into a pocket on the inner lining of his coat. He reached out his hand with a white, sealed envelop with the unspoken command to take it. She complied.

"I was ordered to give that to you." He stood up and turned to look out the window as he continued. She noticed this and immediately stood up; though, she remained at ease. "It's a summons to go before the Consulate with your findings. Even with my position and power, I have no way of stopping you. If those fools annul Roy Mustang's discharge, my conscious will be clean. You are to report at the time and place specified on those papers." He turned to face her. "Is that understood?"

Riza brought her heals together with a loud thud as she stood at attention and delivered a salute. "Yes, sir!" Westford turned around with a heavy breath and appraised the blond Lieutenant standing at attention with a practiced salute still held. The General couldn't help but surrender to her determination. He stood at attention, albeit a bit unkempt for his old bones and joints, and returned the salute which he quickly dropped. Following tradition, she didn't drop the salute until after her commanding officer. "You are dismissed, Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye."

She did an about face and strode straight for the door. "Oh, there is one more thing." She stopped and looked over her shoulder. She wondered what more the General had to say. "Don't say anything stupid. I wouldn't want to see you ruin my recommendation for your promotion." She gave him an icy glare without ever turning around and promptly left the room. Westford stared at the empty portal for a moment before taking his seat and pulling a single sheet from the manila envelop he opened just a few minutes ago. It was a letter addressed to him, and the signature at the bottom read 'Dante'.

Riza hastily left the government building. General Kelly Westford may have had a distinguished record, but he was no ideal leader. She found a nearby bench and sat down as she opened the letter given her. Her eyes scanned the words, but her thoughts still covered her annoyance towards the incompetent leader. _"I know Mustang will unite this country. He's worked so hard to form alliances with those the former Fuhrer discarded."_ She sighed.

"I'll just have to make that case before the Consulate in a few hours." She shook her head as she stood up. She had to make her way to the library to pick up a certain Private. She slipped the new summons into her inner coat pocket and looked to the sky and noon-day sun. "It's just like the Glass Alchemist to wait until the last minute just to protect his own assets." With her destination in mind, she took the shortest route to Central's intelligence bureau.

Riza's expression contorted to one of mild confusion as she approached the steps leading to her target destination. "I'm surprised to see you already out here." The brunette Private smiled as she double timed right up to the blonde Lieutenant. She saluted which Riza quickly returned and dropped. "I take it you know already, Private Sheska? Sheska nodded. "Yes, ma'am!" Riza waved the honorific off. "I need you to bring your research with me." She handed the summons she received over the young Private.

Sheska's eyes widened. "The Consulate isn't this inconsiderate!" Riza shook her head. "No. I imagine somebody's ambitions retarded its delivery." Sheska nodded her head. She knew they couldn't make any direct accusations against the General, and 'somebody' could be anybody between and including the Consulate and the Glass Alchemist. She turned slightly and bent down to pick up a briefcase. "I wanted more time to prepare everything, but we can go with what we have now."

Riza nodded slightly to acknowledge her understanding and started walking. "We don't have much time, Private. We'll discuss the details over a quick lunch then head straight for our destination." Sheska quickly followed after her commanding officer. They knew what had to be done, and it was something they weren't about to hesitate for. The brunette Private did wish they had more time, though.

The luncheon was little more than a debriefing between an officer and enlisted personnel. They shared facts, suspicions, and rumors on everything that would be important when they stood before the Consulate. They knew they couldn't go in unprepared, so they were forced to discard several items they couldn't easily confirm. When they were finished deciding what they were going to use to make their case, Riza paid for their meal, and they quickly made their way to the building housing the Consulate Chambers.

As the building labeled 'Central Hall' came into view, more and more civilian politicians were seen bustling around their usual routine. One of the first things the Consulate changed was how the country was run. The military was still a powerful and near omnipresent entity within Amestris, but civilians gained more say in the daily running of the country. There was still a long way to go as a lot of people still didn't trust the Ishvalans. The misinformation and mistrust sewn by Dante and her homunculus army were powerful forces to deal with.

A Warrant Officer saluted Riza as she approached, and he noted Sheska, who seems to be looking around nervously, as he dropped his salute. "First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye, I have been ordered to escort you to Consulate Chambers." She nodded. He turned his gaze towards Sheska. "I was not informed anyone would be joining you, ma'am." She didn't avert her gaze from the entrance to Central Hall. "Private Sheska should be expected, nonetheless. I sent word of her expertise and my need for her."

The Warrant Officer nodded. Riza took a moment to study the young man. He wasn't much older than Edward Elric, but he already acquired a distinguished rank and served the Consulate directly. He stood an inch taller than Sheska, but his dark hair and eyes reminded her a little too much of Mustang. She was bothered by the fact, however, that he hadn't introduced himself even though they didn't know him.

As if sensing the unasked question, the Warrant Officer spoke up. "I'm Warrant Officer Benjamin Daniels." He turned and took a single step up the stairs. "My brother serves as part of the Consulate, and he wants to ensure you're on time." Sheska's expression was one of surprise as the young man started walking up the stairs. As he beckoned them, she regained her composure and quickly followed. Riza, however, eyed him suspiciously. _"If he's talking about who I think he's talking about…"_

"It's not like the famous Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye to be late." Riza angled her perception to see Benjamin Daniels looking down the stairs wearing a confident grin. Sheska was looking inside the building with a look she could only guess was amazement. She eyed him but quickly marched up the stairs. They continued silently through the busy hallways until they came to double wooden doors.

Warrant Officer Benjamin Daniels swung the doors open and introduced everybody. "Members of the Consulate, Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye reporting with Private Sheska. Ladies, meet the esteemed members of Amestris Consulate." The Consulate Chambers looked more like a courtroom than anything else. In comparison to most governing bodies, the Consulate was relatively small. It was comprised of only seven members, and it was often jokingly called the Counsel of Seven.

"Thank you for escorting our guests." Riza's gaze fell upon the man who just greeted them. He was the only member of the Consulate who wore a military uniform. His rank was Lieutenant General, and this man was one Riza knew. "You are dismissed, Warrant Officer Benjamin Daniels. This is a private hearing." The Warrant Officer clapped his heals together as he stood at attention and delivered a salute. "Yes, sir!" He quickly turned and left.

"Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye… We weren't told we'd have any other…guests." She turned towards the new speaker. This time it was the female Consulate member who spoke up. She knew it had to be General Kelly Westford keeping information away from the Consulate. She politely nodded before responding. "I was unaware you weren't informed. I informed the General I would be brining Private Sheska. She has information vital for my case."

All Consulate members nodded before beckoning the two ladies to take seats. Riza eyed the Lieutenant General again. He smiled and answered the unspoken question. "I am, indeed, the Desert Alchemist." Her eyes narrowed. He just continued. "It's a silly name Fuhrer King Bradley gave me a long time ago. I prefer Jack Daniels, but I'm sure you'd prefer to stick to Lieutenant General."

Riza remained silent. She had her suspicions about this man, too. He wasn't called the Desert Alchemist for no reason. He was trained by Westford, and the Glass Alchemist and Desert Alchemist shared similar Alchemy. Considering Roy Mustang shared a similar philosophy to his mentor, she felt this meeting was already making a turn for the worst. The uncanny resemblance both Daniels bore to Mustang was almost frightening; though, both the brothers Daniels were shorter, and the elder brother had brown hair.

"There isn't reason for introductions." Riza kept her eyes trained on the Lieutenant General even as the eldest member spoke. "We've gathered this special session to discuss our decision to discharge Roy Mustang." There was a pause as another member spoke up. "We are here to hear your testimony on Roy Mustang's reinstatement into Amestris military."

Riza noted an uncomfortably long pause. Her gaze remained on Lieutenant General Jack Daniels who finally sighed and lightly rolled his shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. "No doubt…" He started, and he felt the gaze of each Consulate member fall on him. "…your wondering where my loyalties lie. It is well known, after all, that the Desert Alchemist was trained by and uses the same Alchemy as the Glass Alchemist." She nodded, and he took that to mean he had guessed right.

"To paraphrase for my esteemed colleagues, there have been suspicious activities. For example, we were not informed of Private Sheska's involvement in this important matter. I can guess you weren't given our summons in a proper manner." Riza nodded in agreement again. Daniels smirked and shook his head, and he shifted his eyes to look at the rest of the Consulate members without turning his head. As they whispered amongst themselves, he continued. "No doubt, Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye suspects I may be involved in the plot to keep Roy Mustang as far from Central and Amestris' decisions as possible."

All eyes fell on the Lieutenant General, and silence reigned. He cleared his throat, but he had every appearance of calm and no sign of discomfort. "I can assure you; I have no association with that man. He was…and is loyal to Fuhrer King Bradley to a fault." He smiled as he turned his attention to Sheska. "I'm sure you want proof, though. How about this? Brigadier General Maes Hughes told me all about Private Sheska. He had a letter delivered to my offices in Western after his untimely demise."

Sheska was wide-eyed as she looked at the Lieutenant General, and tears were welling in her eyes. Daniels turned his attention back to Riza. "I imagine her photographic memory has been a great asset to you. Hughes expressed she'd make a fine intelligence officer, if she ever took officer training school. He even guessed she would figure out all his research without leaving it to her, or anybody else for that matter."

His confident smirk grew as he watched the expressions on the Lieutenant and Private standing before the Consulate. The rest of the members remained silent as they watched him. He leaned back in his chair and thoughtfully scratched his chin. "On that note, I think we should start debriefing you on what you know. I don't want you to skip any details, however. If you have suspicions, I want you to present them, as such of course."

Riza and Sheska eyed Daniels. They felt like their luncheon to separate proven facts from speculation had gone to waste. Nonetheless, they started their presentation to the Consulate. They started with the facts. There was no point confusing the issue with unfounded speculation until they were ready to present those. With the known facts, those suspicions and rumors made more sense. Riza was straight and to the point in everything she said. Sheska, on the other hand, was a little imprecise in her words and often overzealous in her body language.

Riza and Sheska revealed facts to the Consulate which left them nothing short of stunned. Interestingly, to Riza at least, Lieutenant General Jack Daniels maintained his composure. In fact, he wore a confident grin. She was curious at that. The Consulate was informed of just how much Dante and her Homunculi had penetrated Amestris at both a civilian and military level. The most troublesome information was that Fuhrer King Bradley was none other than the Homunculus Pride.

The level of infiltration was discovered by the Flame Alchemist and Full Metal Alchemist. Fuhrer King Bradley's own secretary, Colonel Juliet Douglas, was the Homunculus Sloth. This brought up questions about the Ishval War. Sheska was quick to the point on this indicating her research that Sloth was the one to start the conflict. The Consulate members felt sickened by the news, but Lieutenant General Jack Daniels kept his cool exterior.

He held up his hand to stop them from going any further. "That would make Roy Mustang a state hero." He paused as he felt all eyes fall on him once again. His confident grin became a confident smirk. "Why would he run when he so obviously did Amestris a great service?" Riza shot him a disdainful glower. "He knew there were loyalists who would sooner see him executed. Rather than risk his comrades, he took all the blame upon himself and left."

His smirk broadened. He felt like adding on, or finishing, her statement. "…to the northern territory where such loyalists could pile further accusations." He watched her face contort in anger. It was barely noticeable. To the rest of the Consulate, she looked as calm as she had the entire proceeding. She had only one, curt response. "Are you insinuating something?" He shook his head. "No. I am merely pointing out an observation."

Daniels paused as he heard the rest of the Consulate members whisper amongst themselves. He took a deep breath as he wanted Riza and Sheska to continue. "Now, please tell us about the Gate." They both looked at him wide-eyed. There were more whispers among the Consulate members before they nodded. This subject was something they were eager to learn about.

Riza bit her tongue. She was not prepared to talk about the Gate just yet. The fact that Daniels brought it up disturbed her. He was an Alchemist, and he might try to use that information to further his own ambitions. Worse, this information had the potential to create another Dante.

Sheska was the first to speak up. She explained that what they knew was little more than speculation, but the Consulate was just as eager to hear the information regardless if it were unfounded or not. The Gate was some kind of portal connecting two completely alien worlds from one another. To any Alchemist lucky enough to have survived an encounter with the Gate, it was described as knowledge. Edward Elric attained his unique Alchemy abilities after seeing the Gate, and it was Forbidden Alchemy which caused it to appear.

All members of the Consulate save one Lieutenant General Jack Daniels were abuzz over the possibilities. A calm clearing of the throat from Daniels brought them from their discussions. "As interesting as this information might be, we have to take it with a grain of salt. It requires the use of Forbidden Alchemy, which is what got us into this mess in the first place." Riza felt her brow furrow as her eyes narrowed. _"What is he playing at?"_

Daniels smiled as he continued. "From the reports I've read, it would seem the fabled Philosopher's Stone is a grotesque creation. It is the solidified form of an unfathomable number of souls. Even if we swore only to use criminals, it is unreasonable to constitute any action to create that abomination." Riza eyed him, still suspicious. He was playing his cards right to get on her good side, but she didn't want to risk Mustang's life on a gamble.

He nodded as he noticed her softening expression. He wasn't her enemy, and he needed to convince her of that. "Brigadier General Maes Hughes and Major Tim Marcoh entrusted me with this information after…acquiring me for, then, Colonel Roy Mustang's side." His brazen statement caught Riza and Sheska off guard. The former knew Hughes went to Central 'ahead' of Mustang to enlist the services of as many allies as he could. The next statements nearly sent her into shock.

The female Consulate member leaned back in her seat and let out a sigh of relief. "Whew, I thought I was the only one." Riza turned to her finally taking in the woman's features. She was middle-aged with graying, auburn hair. She maintained a petite physique, and she was shorter then Ed. She dressed conservatively in a business-like gray suite. Her green eyes remained youthful.

"Hahaha!" She looked to the eldest Consulate member as he laughed. He was balding with white hair trimming his scalp, and his eyes appeared to have Ishvalan heritage. He sat with an irregular posture due to the hunch osteoporosis had caused him. He seemed to prefer neutral colors as well, settling for white primarily. "I wouldn't doubt if Maes approached each of us. He was a shrewd businessman, and he picked his battles well." Riza took a quick moment of silence to take in each of the members. She was anxious enough she hadn't fully appreciated the civilian-chosen Consulate.

Lieutenant General Jack Daniels was the only military member of the Consulate. Amestris was always a military state, so it made sense to pick a well-liked man like him to serve on the Consulate and represent the proud Amestris military. He was a better choice than his superior officer, General Kelly Westford, at least. The female was Gwyneth Riggs, the resident economic expert. The eldest was Julian Rivers, a scholar. The remaining four had their own backgrounds and expertise to bring to the Consulate.

Lloyd Furr was a well renowned Alchemist. He easily stood taller than the rest of the Consulate at somewhere around seven-one. He had brilliant red hair and crystal blue eyes. He wore khakis and a forest green shirt. Over his clothing, he wore a dark blue cloak, something similar to Ed and Al's red cloak. His eyes remained closed most of the time, and he seemed to be tightlipped. He only opened his eyes when he heard something interesting. In response to the female and elder in concern to Hughes approaching them, he merely nodded. He seemed to be collecting his thoughts.

A burly man in forties laughed as he slammed a tight first into the hard wood in front of him. He wore a red, orange, and yellow plaid shirt and overalls. He was a lumberjack, but he was an expert at trade. The Consulate members weren't chosen at random, despite appearances. "I doubt Mustang'd be alive if weren't for friends in 'igh places." Riza took that to mean the lumberjack, William Pond, was on their side and providing some kind of support for Mustang. She barely contained a small smile.

The youngest member of the Consulate cleared his throat. He had the unusual appearance as if he were the male version of Winry Rockbell, only with chestnut brown hair and eyes. He wore a matte blue business suit. "Even if you allied yourselves with Mustang in the past, it would not be wise to jump to conclusions based on what you _knew_ of him." Riza only nodded. His point of view was hardly clouded. Young Jeremiah Twain was a philosopher and poet. "That said; we cannot overlook the powerful evidence presented before us."

The last man was the hardest to read. He was Alan Kingston, a business man. He had a natural poker face. His black hair had few gray highlights to show his age, but the light bags under his eyes betrayed near insomnia. He cracked his eyes open as he took in the ladies and his fellow Consulate members. His eyes were an unusual combination of green and blue which made them appear almost yellow. If it weren't for his healthy appearance, it might be worrisome. He wore a brown business suit. He didn't say anything, only drew a deep breath.

Lieutenant General Jack Daniels beckoned Riza and Sheska to bring their evidence to the Consulate table. "I think it's time we deliberated on what you've presented to us. If you'd leave your research with us, we'll get back to you as soon as we've reached a decision. If there's nothing more, you are dismissed." He awaited their response. Sheska quickly bowed, but Riza had something else to say.

"I hope the Consulate reaches a quick and wise decision." Daniels nodded. Riza saluted, and Sheska followed suit. They turned and left the Consulate to debate the issue. All that was left now was to wait. Daniels turns to the rest of his esteemed colleagues. "I trust you've already arrived at your decision?" They nodded in agreement. "Good. We just need to discuss the finer details."

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This is only the Prologue, and I don't know when the first chapter will actually be up. You may notice that the main characters for this drama don't even show up in the Prologue, and, in fact, I introduce a bunch of new characters. This was purely intentional; I assure you. As far as prologues go, I hope this opened a bunch of questions.

I am rating this fan-fiction to be 'future proof' against coming events. I don't want to spoil events, but I shall say it will be big.

I appreciate comments and constructive criticism, but I will ignore outright flames. I like to comment on reviews, so, please, give me something to work with.

Story Word Count: 5,217  
Story Page Count: 10


	2. Chapter 1: Road to Central

S J Smith: Trust Maes indeed! I love Riza's character and was always disappointed they never did anything more with her. I'm a fan of Ed/Winry and Roy/Riza pairings, so you can probably guess a few of the things I'm trying to build. As if that weren't already a big duh... Thanks for the constructive criticism. I'll try working on that. I'm using my _Naruto_ fan-fiction as practice, so maybe this story will turn out better.

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**Road to Central  
**

Riza was not happy as she sat in the back seat of the car heading towards Gunter, a small town just south of Briggs and part of Northern. Second Lieutenant Heymans Breda was driving, and Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc occupied shotgun. She was curious just what the Consulate was thinking. She genuinely was holding onto hope until she received her latest summons. Roy Mustang, currently serving as a Corporal within the Gunter police force, was to be retrieved to stand trial. If she didn't go, somebody else would have been ordered, and she had to wonder if a certain General might tack on somebody to shoot the 'resisting' Mustang.

"It's been a while since we've been to Northern, eh Havoc?" Breda was in an unusually jovial mood. He liked Briggs and the surrounding towns. Before Mustang recruited him, he was trained at this base bordering the only navigable pass into or out of Dorakuma. He knew the region well. He knew the feared Matriarch of Northern, and he knew the dangerous enemies who lied in wait just across the border. With the exception of the pass, there was no way for an army from Dorakuma to sanely make it to Amestris. The rest of the border comprised of dangerous mountain passes or a suicidal march through the desert to the east or the country of Crata to the west.

Havoc sighed as he watched the windshield wipers furiously work to keep snow from piling up against their precious vision. It's the reason he let Breda drive. He fought with his nervous habit to smoke. In the closed quarters of the car they shared, he was sure lighting up would be the least of his worries. "Yeah, whatever. Gunter's pretty close, though. I can't wait to get out of this car." He took a moment to look over his shoulder. The back seat was awfully quiet. He didn't really expect Hawkeye to say much, but she was more tightlipped than usual. "What's buggin' ya, Lieutenant? You're finally gonna be able to see Mustang and drag him back to Central."

She sent him a glare which sent shivers down and up his spine. She wasn't the best sharpshooter in Amestris without a reason. This trip was the first time she ever went to Gunter, let alone Northern, since Mustang took the old saying that 'discretion was the better part of valor' literally. Havoc still didn't want to let it go. "Listen, the Consulate ordered ya to bring Mustang back for a reason."

The icy stare Riza gave him unnerved him like nothing else could. She reached into her coat pocket to extract the summons she was given back at Central. She opened the parchment as she straightened back up. "I was specifically ordered to retrieve Roy Mustang from _Gunter_ near the border city base of Briggs." She paused as she watched sullenness overshadow her companions' expressions. "How did they know he was in Gunter? More importantly, why only send me _now_?" They knew the reason for her emphasis. They could have sent her any time, and _now_ only made things suspicious.

They still had orders, and they were to carry them out. It was safer for Mustang if they were to retrieve him, and he wasn't about to do anything to put them into unnecessary harm. They couldn't let go of the fact that the Consulate knew it was Gunter he resided in. It was true local police forces were miniature extensions of the military, but their records were often not as well kept and not shared outside the region. This city was especially notorious for keeping poor paperwork. Riza, however, honestly suspected that some if not all members of the Consulate were involved, in some way, in Mustang's safety and ability to deliver sparse letters to his comrades.

The rest of the trip remained uncomfortably silent. Even Breda didn't dare tell a joke. Havoc nearly fell asleep a few times. His head slammed into the passenger window each time to snap him out of his attempted slumber. Riza kept staring ahead. She imagined Mustang waiting for his comrades through the heavy blanket of winter. Though, she doubted Northern knew much besides the heavy snows.

They weren't driving to Gunter proper. Their destination was a small storage facility about a mile outside the city limits. It served as part of the supply line for Briggs. It held things Northern couldn't produce on its own to keep the military personnel healthy and fit. Remembering General Westford's accusations, Riza couldn't help but scoff. The man was a buffoon. Rather than sell information to Dorakuma, Mustang could poison Briggs food and water supply to make the pass that much easier to cross.

When they arrived at the storage facility disguised as a small shed, Riza looked at the pitiful 'snowman' standing watch. She saw remnants of the traditional blue uniform. It didn't hurt that a white gloved hand tightly held a rifle stock with bayonet. The region which had to be the head shook. The occupants of the car saw the disgruntled look of Corporal Roy Mustang of the Gunter Police Force sending an untrusting glare at the official symbol of the Amestris military adorning its sides.

Breda pulled the car to a full stop and revved the engine a couple of times. Mustang didn't move from his spot as his grip tightened on the riffle. The lights didn't turn off and the windshield wipers kept going. The backdoor opened, and he felt his body tense. He was ready for a fight if need be. The heavy crunch of snow was heard under the black boots of the occupant stepping out. He quickly looked to the front. Two remained in the car. He heard the door slam shut, and he looked to see who continued to crunch the snow to step towards him.

Mustang froze, not from the cold but from what he saw. His grip was lost on his riffle, and he heard it sink into the snow. A woman made her way towards him. She wasn't just any woman, either. He could recognize her just in the way she carried herself, the way she moved. He didn't need to see her face, covered to protect against the harsh, cold winds. He didn't even need to see the way her blond locks were styled. She stopped four feet from him and gave him a pointed salute.

Mustang scoffed. She was the last person who needed to show him proper respect. He 'demoted' himself by running away from Central and joining a small town's police force. This action allowed him to hide in plain sight by rejoining as enlisted. He never returned the salute, and he spoke after she held it for nearly a minute. "Riza, you don't have to do that." She didn't drop it. "I'm enlisted; you're an officer. Stop embarrassing yourself." She maintained her steady salute. He sighed. "What are you here for?"

Riza lowered her salute but remained at attention. This man was the only one she deemed worthy to lead. She swore to see him as Fuhrer. Her hazel eyes caught his dark brown eyes. She never wanted to forget this sensation of staring into his orbs. Her resolve almost weakened, but she was going to follow orders until she didn't like them anymore. "Sir, I am to escort you to Central. The Consulate has ordered your immediate return. Recently they have spoken to Sheska and me…"

Mustang held his hand up to stop her. "Before you continue, I'm not going back. Until those boys return, there's nothing waiting for me anywhere in Amestris." He knew her body language enough to know she was about to protest, and he put a stop to that by placing a silencing finger over where he knew her mouth was. "I can't face Winry as I am now. I can't face Gracia and Elysia…" It was his turn to be interrupted as his head snapped to one side in a harsh slap.

The sound of flesh against flesh echoed through the cold, harsh air as the fabric protecting Riza's face unraveled to fall around her neck, like a scarf. She was panting with anger apparent in her face. She watched as her breath dissipated in the wintry weather. Mustang stood stock still with his head turned to one side as the shock sunk in. The last time she hit him was after her father, his mentor, died. He finally raised a hand to trace the outline of the already forming bruise. He didn't feel the physical pain he knew he should.

"Shut up, Roy!" He felt shock again as Riza actually _yelled_ at him. Riza never yelled! Well, she might if mentally drained. "Just…shut up…" He felt the pain in her voice. She was fighting back tears. "Why did you leave us? We would have come with you!" He sighed and swayed slightly, and she immediately read his body language. He didn't get to take a step forward as her ungloved hand came to bear, pistol drawn. He knew she had to have taken off her glove to slap him and him feel flesh.

Mustang looked up when he heard two metallic clicks. Breda and Havoc hastily exited the car. They anxiously looked between each other completely confused as to what to do. Mustang lightly licked his lips and waved them off. He knew Riza better than anybody, and she needed to get some frustrations out. He also wasn't dumb enough to stay silent. "I needed time to think. Those boys are important."

He winced as he noticed she wasn't holding back her tears anymore. Her gloved hand was wiping her eyes as she tilted her head down to hide her emotions, which was proving impossible. "I know that… I know that! Don't you think you could have trusted us?!" He had to hand it for her. For a woman as emotionally controlled as her, she could handle coherent conversation and emotional breakdowns quite well. "We were willing to fight for you, but you left us!"

Mustang was really starting to worry about that safety on her pistol. He could almost hear the same thoughts being transmitted by Breda and Havoc. Mustang felt his breath catch in his throat as he reached out both his hands to cover Riza's ungloved one. She was shaking, and he blinked at how he didn't notice that before. "I didn't leave you behind… I trusted you all to go about your lives and do what we always did, defend Amestris. I needed time. The boys aren't dead. After that freak battle in Central, I realized what I had to do."

The snow crunched next to them as the pistol fell through the soft powder. Riza pushed her face into Mustang's chest, and he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She felt safe for the first time in a long time. He wasn't chasing after women, and he was thinking rationally about his charges. She felt a small smile creep onto her lips as a thought crossed her mind. "You know…" Her voice cracked with fresh tears. "I care about the boys, too. Ross and Gracia aren't the only women smothering them with motherly affection."

Mustang had to chuckle at being reminded of Second Lieutenant Maria Ross. She took the boys under her wing with so much passion. She became something the boys were looking for; though, she wasn't _who_ they were looking for. Gracia took the boys in for her own reasons. They were like sons she would never have, and Elysia loved them dearly. Then a spark hit him.

The dumbfounded expression molding his face was priceless. Riza stifled a giggle at what she guessed he was feeling. A cough caught in his throat as he shook his head, and he rested his chin on the crown of her head. He chuckled. "You have an odd way of showing affection." She kicked his shin, and he mocked injury. Breda and Havoc were surprised when they became a mirthful heap on the ground.

The two smiled, however, as they knew this whole excursion had been good for all of them. They had a feeling Chief Warrant Officer Vato Falman and Master Sergeant Kain Fuery were going to get a kick out of this. As they exchanged banter about how everything would play out in Central, they never noticed the crunching of snow leading to them. They looked up when they heard the unmistakable click of Riza's holster, only to feel relief that the pistol was being secured.

"Well…" Breda and Havoc looked to Mustang as he spoke up. They clearly heard his commanding tone. He was back to old form. "What are you doing just standing around? I, apparently, have a date with the Consulate. I have no intentions of keeping them waiting." He and Riza entered the back seat as the two stood dumbstruck.

Havoc scratched the back of his head. "Well, you heard the Corporal. Let's get moving." He didn't have to wait for Breda's snigger to know the point, if a joke, was made. With four occupants, the car was soon on its way back to Central and the waiting Consulate. They just had to make a pit stop along the way.

The drive through Northern countryside was silent. It wasn't as if there was nothing to say. Mustang was seriously contemplating, and his inner circle knew to leave him alone until he was ready to speak. It was a funny feeling. They couldn't think of a more comfortable silence in years. The scenery outside slowly changed from snowy countryside to snowy, small town streets. The car gently rocked along the snow-covered cobblestone before coming to a halt in front of an inn.

Breda looked over his shoulder. He knew to expect no questioning looks. It was already getting late, and no more trains were running from Northern to Central. "We've already got tickets for an early-morning train ride out of here. The Gunter police force has already sent somebody to replace you at that post you were keeping." He was unusually serious as he turned back around and turned the key in the ignition to stop the engine and remove it.

Mustang lowered his head and closed his eyes. His usual, confident smirk crossed his lips before he raised his head high. The rest of the occupants missed their unparalleled leader, and they were glad to see him back. "When we get back to Central, I think it's about time I ordered your silly masks be removed." The three grinned widely at the prospect of showing their real selves. "…except you, Riza." He watched her face darken. "Until I'm Fuhrer, I need you as my exclusive secretary."

Though disappointed she had to continue masking her feelings, Riza nodded her head in understanding. She straightened up and smoothed out her uniform. She was the perfect soldier, and she was picked for that very reason. She was a sharpshooter able to keep things in perspective. She gladly complied with this order. Her usual impassive expression returned completely. "They would be foolish not to seat you in that position, sir."

Mustang's lip twitched to fight from broadening his smirk. He opened his door and stepped out into the harsh cold which signaled the rest to follow him. Mustang still had things he wanted to discuss. His first priority was a discussion with Riza. As the inn only had two rooms left with two beds each, he decided to bunk with her. Breda and Havoc weren't surprised, considering their history.

* * *

A boy with his blond hair tied in a ponytail, no older than eleven or twelve, lay on a bed with his right leg crossed over his left knee and raised in the air. His raised foot swayed gently with the light, classical music. It was one of Beethoven's masterpieces. The crackle in the background betrayed a radio as the source. A breeze blew in through the window and rustled the curtains to display a lovely view of Paris, more specifically the Eiffel Tower.

"Al!" The sudden outburst from downstairs brought the boy, Alphonse, out of his daydream. He rolled over and looked to the stairs. A head of hair with a darker shade of blond bobbed rhythmically with the gentle thudding of the elder Elric climbing the stairs. Edward, whom Al now looked like a younger version of, poked his head over the horizon created by the banister. The elder brother glared at the younger. "Did you forget what time it was? It's time to go!"

Al smiled with a nod. "I'm coming, brother!" He watched Ed disappear downstairs before he rushed over to the radio to turn it off. He was slightly disheartened that Paris showed no leads on the element they were hunting down. He was homesick, but he was happy to be with his elder brother. He may have a body only three years older than when they attempted reviving their mother, but he had all the memories of their travels and misadventures. He sighed. They had absolutely no idea where that crazed alchemist had gotten to, but they held onto hope that they could get their hands on that uranium and/or research before the war started.

Adolf Hitler, Fuhrer of the Third Reich, was another madman they learned about. He wrote an atrocious book, _Mein Kampf_, which was already poisoning the minds of the populace. It wasn't just Deutschland, or Germany, being afflicted by it either. The novel spread so quickly through Europe that any minority who could be blamed for troubles quickly was.

All these thoughts slowed Al as he packed his meager belongings. Since they were on the road with Gypsies, they learned to pack light and how to keep essentials. "Hurry up, Al! Noa's ready to leave, too!" Al threw his head back as he was thrown from his thoughts. He blinked a few times before throwing his pack over his shoulders and rushing downstairs.

His thoughts never completely subsided. With a sullen expression, he didn't even notice Ed in front of him until he ran into him. Al looked up, red from embarrassment. "I'm sorry, brother." Characteristic Ed waved the apology off and was about to say something, but Al had something to say first. "How much longer do you think we have, brother?"

To say Ed was surprised by his little brother's question would be an understatement. He heaved a sigh. They saw the results for the coming war thanks to that accursed Gate. Though it was comprised of knowledge, it just didn't want to give them the necessary information. "I don't really know, Al. I'd say a few more years, though." He rubbed his chin in thought for a moment, and he was about to continue before his head jerked forward and down.

Noa stood behind him with her arm raised in the air, and her knuckles were slightly reddened by the force. "You two coming?!" She was obviously a little flustered at having to wait. She thought she told them to hurry. The Gypsy life wasn't easy, and staying in one place for too long had potential to be dangerous. "Hurry up!" They never knew where the Third Reich's influence might manifest. She pretended to storm out the door and toward the waiting custom-bed truck.

Ed rubbed the back of his head. She didn't hit hard, but he wanted to make a point of mock injury. She never paid any attention though, and he rolled his eyes. He followed after Noa while looking over his shoulder to hurry Al along. "We better get going, Al. We mustn't keep a lady waiting." He paused with a, to Al, dangerous smirk. "You know how Gypsies are." Ed gave Al a wink before he turned back around to see exactly what he expected to happen, well, happen.

A gingerly insulted Noa whapped him upside the forehead. Of course, she displayed mock insult knowing his statement was meaningless. He, on the other hand, mocked injury as he tenderly rubbed the spot on his forehead she just hit him. She eyed him, nonetheless, before turning on her heels with a disapproving grunt.

Al emerged onto the terrace while shaking his head with his hand over his brow. "You just have to keep that sarcastic tongue, do you brother?" They all had a quick laugh at that before making a dash towards the truck. The Gypsies in the back giggled as the two young adults and preteen tried to catch the truck before it started pulling away. As if to prove a point, the driver released the brakes just to let the truck lurch forward, so the three quickly climbed on.

The driver revved the engine once before pulling away. The scene displayed that late afternoon in Paris was a busy one. There was a military parade, a show of power. Ed attributed it to the First World War. Though, the brothers Elric plus Noa were the only ones who knew for a fact that the Second World War was coming. They knew saying something would only land them in the loony bin.

The large parade forced the short trip out of Paris to be a lengthy ordeal. Ed watched the French military ride through town and let out a huff. "Reminds me of Bradley's showmanship." Ed hated that. He knew the difference between a parade to boost morale and a parade to show off. He heard about the 'fortifications' the French military built. If he had a guess, the Deutsch would easily find ways to bypass it with a strategy from some brilliant general.

The city scene quickly left them behind, and they were on one of the roads leading through the mountain ranges before they knew it. With the exception of song and modified dance from the Gypsies, the trip was relatively quiet. So quiet, in fact, Al was getting more and more anxious the longer it went on.

He already consulted his brother on where they were heading, and it surprised him a little. He was leaning back and watching the clouds go by. He wasn't able to shake his curiosity, so he asked the question which bothered him the most. "You know, brother… We've been traveling for a while to get here to France and Paris." The obvious confusion laced his voice. "Why go back to Germany, now?"

"Because…" Ed paused as he joined his younger brother in cloud gazing. "…that's where rockets and jets have already been built, successful or not." He looked at Al and straightened a few strands of hair flying in front of his own face. "I picked up a lead on some military stuff going on here in France, but these guys are too concerned with showing off and putting up a front to be housing the guy we're looking for."

Al gave a quizzical look at his elder brother's response. "That may be true, brother, but every country on this planet would love to get their hands on his research." The brothers had discussed this subject at length, and they never did come to a consensus on it. They were startled to learn of the number of scientists on this side who had and were researching radioactive materials. They heard material names they hoped to never hear, and they were bothered by the deaths. They also knew how gruesome it must have been.

As the brothers Elric slipped back into silence, the reigning feeling was that of revelry and mirth. The Gypsies tried to keep the mood up, and the brothers were soon broken from their glum demeanor. They were soon talking, joking, and laughing right along with the small troupe. Unbeknownst, a dark shadow loomed overhead.

Hidden by the clouds, a consciousness kept tabs on the Elrics. In it still lurked resentment unable to die while they occupied this side. Ed looked up to the sky as he felt something. To him, it felt dark and smelt of blood. He barely whispered one word, and his lips barely moved. "Hohenheim…?"

"Brother?" Ed shot Al a surprised look as the younger Elric continued. "Did you say something?" Al wore a concerned expression. He heard a noise, but he wasn't able to make out what was said. He also read the strange expression and grimace on his elder brother's face.

"It's nothing, Al… Just the wind…" Even as Ed said this, he seemed distracted. He looked back to the sky as if trying to see past the cloudy cover. Something just didn't feel right, and he had a feeling something just didn't add up.

* * *

Havoc fell backwards onto his bed, and Breda sat by the windowsill. They knew they had to get to sleep, but something was just too exciting to watch the back of their eyelids at the moment. Havoc placed a cigarette between his lips, and he was doing well to resist the urge to light it. He grinned like an idiot as he stared at the ceiling and placed his hands behind his head like a pillow. "I haven't been able to go all out for a while!"

Breda smirked. "I know." His smirk broadened into a goofy grin before he let out a hearty laugh. "We're so used to our masks; I wonder if we'll recognize each other." He passed a knowing look to Havoc. "What was your specialty again, anyway?"

Havoc shifted his grin and cigarette along with it. His eyes sparkled with the prospect. It was kind of cool to play around, but he'd get serious to place Mustang as Fuhrer. "You'll be surprised." Havoc and Breda shared a chuckle before the former continued. "I'm a lot like Hawkeye. I'm a sharpshooter and munitions expert." He shot out of bed and walked towards the bathroom. "You?"

Breda stood up, drew the curtains, and then shuffled through his small pack. "I'm demolitions, myself." He produced a black eye cover. "Was recommended to Mustang by the Mistress of Northern herself!" He beamed as he changed out of his uniform which he carefully draped over a chair to keep it wrinkle free.

The sound of running water then a gurgle was heard in the bathroom. After a moment, the water stopped, and Havoc stepped out. Breda walked in to take his turn as Havoc turned to his own pack. "That so?" Havoc fished out a lighter before he changed out of his uniform. "I might have to look you up if I need anything blown up." The two shared a laugh before more running water and a gurgle could be heard.

Havoc and Breda shared a few stories about their experiences before Mustang recruited them. Breda trained at Briggs in Northern. He was from nearly the opposite environment Havoc was used to. He trained in Southern at one of the many forts bordering Aelgo. It was a fort called Bradford, and it was surrounded by savannah. In fact, the jungles of Aelgo started just a few miles south.

Across the hall, Mustang and Hawkeye were already for bed. They hadn't seen each other in a long time, so the silence while went through their nightly routines was uncomfortable. As distracted as they both were, it was a surprise to them both they didn't tangle the other's routine and make a mess of everything. At the same time, they were drinking in the other's presence.

After some time, Mustang found himself staring out the window over the small township. He was down to only his boxers as he watched his breath fog the window before dissipating. His cool voice finally broke the silence. "How are things at Central?"

On the other hand, Riza already hid herself under the covers of her bed. Her bare feet huddled together at the baseboard. She lay on her stomach, so, when she leaned back at his question, her covers fell to expose her scarred back. "That idiot, Glass Alchemist, was placed in charge of the military while the Consulate is still working on improving the civilian government."

Mustang nodded and turned around. He froze, however, at the sight. Riza gave him a confused expression, and he coughed into his fist to regain his composure. He flushed red as he looked one way and scratched his cheek. She looked over her shoulder and scowled at him. "What? It's not like you've never seen me naked before!" She was obviously miffed.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and walked to the edge of her bed. He took in and heaved a heavy breath as he looked at her, and she eyed him before turning her face to one side with a blush. Her back was badly scarred, and it was his own handiwork at her behest to hide her father and his mentor's work. "I don't like this either, but…"

Mustang paused as Riza rolled onto her side. He was somewhat thankful and somewhat unhappy that she decided to cover her chest with the blankets. "Who is it, exactly, you don't trust." She watched as his face was marred by a sullen expression. "I know you, Roy…better than anyone. You're afraid somebody is going to make this a lot more difficult."

He shook his head with an anxious chuckle. "I never could hide anything from you. You have the eyes of a hawk." She gave him an annoyed scowl. "…and we were lovers." He added silently before a heavy sigh escaped. "I'm worried about Westford. I need you to keep playing your role. You're more suspect as your skills were assessed by somebody loyal to Westford long before we met Hughes."

She hated to admit it, but she understood the logic of the argument. Breda was trained at Briggs, and Lieutenant General Armstrong never sold out her men. Havoc trained at Bradford, but Major General Kipling died in the Ishval War. Falman and Fuery were trained in Western. Falman was at Strand to the north, and Major General Johnston was a family friend to Hughes. Fuery was at Holston to the south, and Major General Larson was an upperclassman to Hughes.

Riza hated to admit just how much of their plans revolved around what Hughes accomplished while he was alive. She wouldn't have been able to serve under Mustang if it weren't for his quick thinking and wit. His attachment to the intelligence bureau allowed him to manipulate information. He never populated their files with outright lies, but there was enough misinformation to keep the top brass from finding out the truth.

She was sick of the pretending, but her determination to see the Flame Alchemist seated as Fuhrer kept her resolve up. All she wanted was to let it all go. She sat up, allowing the covers to fall to her waist, before wrapping her arms around Mustang. He was taken aback in surprise for a moment before he returned the gesture. A chuckle caught in his throat. "You know…"

Riza stopped him in his tracks. "Don't even think about it." She pulled back slightly to watch his flabbergasted expression. "I'm tired of this façade. You've been chasing after other women for so long it makes me sick." He was about to interject to defend himself, but she put a stop to that with a gentle finger to his lips. "I know. It was Hughes' spy network, and it fit your personality so well that nobody ever suspected. Still…how do you think I felt?"

He nuzzled into her neck, and she laid her head on his shoulder. It was one night to show their weaknesses to each other. It was one night to muse in the teachings of Hawkeye. Riza's father was Mustang's mentor, and they wanted the latter to be Fuhrer to serve Amestris and its people. He traced the outline of a scar on her back. It was an intimate gesture they shared, but it was only one of many. They found the resolve to do whatever it took to claim the position of Fuhrer, settle Amestris into peace, and find a way to finally reunite with two, very important boys.

* * *

The streets leading from the Central Train Station to Central Hall were carefully barricaded. The military police lined the streets to keep order, but the whispers which ran rampant only caused the gathering throng to grow stronger by the minute. The rumors included but were not limited to visiting delegates from a neighboring nation state, some national hero, and a state criminal. The few who did know what was going on, namely the Amestris military, weren't saying much.

A one Private Sheska eagerly awaited the first train from Northern to arrive. It carried Riza, Breda, and Havoc back. It also carried a key person, Mustang. She was surrounded by no less than a dozen guards the Consulate allowed her to personally pick. Not a single person among them owed undue loyalty to General Kelly Westford. They might not stand up to a well-trained State Alchemist, but strength in numbers was true enough.

The sounds of heavy, metal wheels clanking against the steel tracks were the first signal of the train's arrival. The behemoth soon broke through offending fog and steam, and the screech of brakes sent the young woman's heart atwitter. She felt the butterflies grind her stomach into knots. She felt happy, like they were going to accomplish something.

The train ground to a halt in the few hundred yards it took, and the minutes felt like hours. A heavy hiss announced the protests of the train's boiler. With the exception of the blocked off section, military police quickly ushered disembarking passengers off the train. Once complete, Sheska watched the doors in front of her whistle open. A plume of steam obscures her vision for a moment, but only a moment.

She beamed at the four as they stepped onto the secured alcove. She walked up to Mustang and saluted. It was hard not to recognize the old habits of the once librarian; though, she was never good at that for her overzealous desire to read. He promptly returned the solute. For once, somebody was saluting him whom was actually of a lower rank. Though, she didn't technically need to salute a Corporal.

Mustang dropped his salute, and she properly followed. He took a deep breath as he took her in. She hadn't changed at all over the years. She had the same hair, the same eyes, and the same facial features. He knew her photographic memory, and he also knew that Hughes had plenty of time to train her. He cleared his throat before speaking to her. "The birds flock under the bridge…"

Breda and Havoc were a bit confused by the code. They could have sworn they heard it somewhere before. Riza's eyes went wide in recognition. She turned to Mustang, but the question never made it past her lips. "…to sing a lullaby to the midnight sun." Sheska finished the enigmatic code. Her smile only brightened as she nodded in understanding.

Mustang returned the nod. "Let's get this party started. Shall we?" Breda and Havoc didn't have time to ask what the exchange was about. Riza knew, but she could hardly believe it. Sheska digested what she now had to do, and they all would follow Mustang wherever he led. Soon enough, Falman and Fuery joined the crowd heading towards Central Hall and the Consulate.

Mustang couldn't help but smirk. Either this day would be incredibly productive, or he had plenty of work cut out for him. He had his troops. He had his arguments. All he had left to do was deliver the last bit of condemning evidence. Dante wasn't getting away with what she did. He was going to make sure the truth about King Bradley came to light. He couldn't face Gracia, Elysia, and Winry without winning this fight, first.

Riza kept her eyes on Sheska. As Mustang's secretary, she needed to keep abreast of the situation. As they made their way along the streets, the brunette rushed off to seemingly random barricades. She stopped with a wave and a smile, and she made small talk with various civilians. To anybody else, these events were completely random. To Mustang and his inner circle, Sheska was accomplishing her mission as Hughes' replacement.

Riza recognized every woman and shadowy figure Sheska exchanged a few quick words with. She had a feeling the young Private was talking in code, and that code looked like civilian drivel to anybody else. Each civilian she talked to carefully left the crowd to accomplish whatever task was given. By the time they reached Central Hall, Mustang, Riza, Breda, Havoc, Falman, and Fuery counted every spy from the network Hughes built.

The military police Sheska choose to escort them stood at the entrance of Central Hall while Mustang and his inner circle marched to the Consulate chambers. The story of the hallways was vastly different from any previous visits. The hallways were desolate, and they only heard the regular taps from their shoes against the hard floor. At the double doors, Warrant Officer Benjamin Daniels stood.

He walked up to the seven and stopped in front of Mustang. After a tense moment, the younger Daniels saluted. Mustang scoffed, but he was interrupted by Daniels. "I know you _wear_ Corporal now, but the last rank you held in the Amestris armed forces was Brigadier General. Isn't that right, sir?"

Mustang hung his head. He knew how persistent the brothers Daniels were. "I suppose you're right." He returned the salute and quickly dropped it. The Warrant Officer responded in kind. Mustang paused for a moment before continuing. "You're here to make sure we don't run away or try something; aren't you?"

Daniels chuckled. "Oh, nothing of the sort! I'm only here to greet our honored guests." He turned and led them to the double doors. He wore a smirk as he pushed the doors open to reveal the Consulate chambers. The seven members sat at the front of the room, waiting. Daniels let each of the seven in as he introduced them. When he was dismissed, he promptly exited the room. Unlike last time, he remained at the double doors to guard the room.

Lieutenant General Jack Daniels stood from his seat and walked around to the front. When it came to military matters, he was usually the primary speaker, just as when Riza and Sheska presented their case. He looked at each of the seven in turn before his eyes came to rest on Mustang. "Brigadier General Roy Mustang, also known as the Flame Alchemist, has returned to Central, Amestris to stand proper trial for the crimes of murder, insubordination, and going AWOL."

Riza shifted her body to make a pull for her pistol, but Mustang raised his arm in front of her as a signal to stop. She complied as he stepped forward. He wore his confident smirk as he answered the accusations. "You cannot murder what was already dead, I never did anything which didn't serve this state, and I was never out of touch."

Daniels grinned at the display. Hughes was right. This guy was quick on his feet. Daniels cupped his chin in his hand and bobbed his head. "I see; I see." After a moment, he met Mustang squarely in the eyes. "We've already heard from First Lieutenant Hawkeye and Private Sheska, but they aren't Alchemists. I'd like to hear what you have to say."

Mustang was more than happy to oblige. He used all the material and evidence he had. He may not have been planning on coming back until the boys managed to return, but he wasn't about to waste the valuable research he had. He had a solid case to defend himself, and there was already popular opinion that he was a hero. He had to hand it to Hughes. He turned Sheska into one of the finest intelligence personnel he'd ever seen.

The proceedings took several days. With her mask removed, Mustang only had to chime in to clarify with his expertise or answer questions directed at him. Sheska expertly utilized the members of his inner circle. She knew what each specialized in, and she knew where they stood with information. Breda and Havoc were demolitions and munitions, respectively, so they weren't of too much help during the proceedings. Falman and Fuery, however, were a different story.

Falman was an interrogations and information extraction expert. He often dealt with whomever Mustang or Riza sent him, in privacy that is. His calm and patient mask easily hid his uncanny ability to make anybody talk. Fuery was an expert at cracking and hacking communications. His cover was, perhaps, the least elaborate because he worked as a communications expert for Amestris anyway. They were both hesitant to reveal what they knew at first, but Mustang reassured them they could act as normal.

The Consulate weren't simple this time around. They diligently searched for holes in their stories, and they were quick to point any out with the appropriate question. The days passed, and soon enough everything Mustang and his inner circle knew was passed onto the Consulate members.

The last day of the so-called trial dawned, and the seven were called from their secured lodgings within the Central Hall. They arrived to see a surprising sight. The Consulate members were sitting on the same level as Mustang and his inner circle were to sit and present their case. As they approached, they carefully scanned the room for any threats.

Daniels was the first to great them. He stood up and ushered them in. When the Mustang Seven sat with the Counsel of Seven, the questions started. All questions were directed at Mustang, and they were asking very specifically about the Gate. He was startled by this, but he answered them as best he could. He was the only one to get a close look at the Gate, after all. He was the one to destroy it. To him, the vast void was indiscernible. He wasn't able to understand it. He never even saw visions like Ed described.

The Consulate was satisfied, nonetheless. They might not have learned anything new about the Gate, but they learned an awful lot about Amestris' darkest secrets. They decided it was their turn to give the Mustang Seven their own findings. As daylight waned, a verdict was reached. Dante and the Homunculi were a threat to Amestris.

To Mustang and his inner circle, it wasn't big news. It was a victory, though, and they took what they could. They were dismissed to allow the Consulate time to deliberate amongst themselves. It was to be a long wait for them. They didn't even know how long it was going to take. They found benches to sit at within the hallways and discussed their options.

"Falman and Fuery, I take it you now know what you need to do?" Mustang looked at the two in turn, and they nodded. "Good. Now…" He eyed each of his subordinates. "Our first priority is settling things down here in Central. That may include filling the position of Fuhrer. If not by me, then by somebody we trust." They looked dejected at the idea of another filling that role.

Sheska looked down and studied the pattern of the tiles. It wasn't that they were interesting. She just had other thoughts. When she looked up, her eyes wavered with the thoughts plaguing her mind. "What about Ed and Al?" She was as worried about them as anybody else. She became attached to them and sparked a friendship with Winry.

Mustang gave her his confident smirk which just seemed to scream he knew something. "The boys? They're tough; they can handle themselves. We don't want them coming back only to be disappointed. No, they are our _highest_ priority." He had a light in his eyes he thought long since forgotten. He settled back comfortably as he looked at his subordinates. They were comrades in arms, every one of them.

As the minutes passed into hours, the group had varied discussions. They talked about who to trust. They had impromptu jokes to break any impending doom and gloom. As night passed into early morning, the group started yawning and nodding off. They had no idea what decision had been reached within Consulate chambers. They needed the rest, and they weren't going to be disturbed.

* * *

The roads through the European mountains were breathtaking. It took days to get to the French border with Luxembourg to avoid some checkpoint hassles. The Gypsies Ed and Al were traveling with weren't too welcome in most places. They cleverly used traveling circuses they came across to help bypass trouble spots. Several Gypsies got on and off along the way. Some were staying to perform at various circuses or to make some money in street performances.

Ed, Al, and Noa were the only three staying on a stable track. When a driver got especially anxious, they had to jump to another transport or hire a new driver. It was not an easy trek to Germany. Once in Luxembourg, the journey eased considerably. It was probably thanks to the sparse population or rough roads through the mountains, but they were able to speed up considerably.

"We should be reaching Germany in a few hours." Though she had no real desire to return, Noa still spoke confidently in relaying the information to the brothers. She is discouraged, however, to see Ed so lost in thought that he never heard her. When Al saw her confused look, he could only shrug. Neither knew what was going on.

"I wonder…how Winry's doing." Ed spoke absentmindedly as he looked to the sky. He blocked the sun from his face with his right arm. The automail, covered in synthetic skin, always reminded him of his mechanic. She was the only one who ever made automail he could appreciate, and her repairs were top-notch. The one he found himself wearing now wasn't even on par with the worst, certified automail mechanic thanks to the clashing technology of this world.

"I'm sure she's fine, brother. She probably misses you, though." Ed blinked as his attention was drawn from his daydream to his soft-spoken brother. Al caught a chuckle before it could escape as he watched his elder brother's confused gawk. "She hasn't seen you in quite some time, brother.

Ed sighed at Al's latest response. He wanted to see Winry too, but he had to protect both worlds. In his mind, nobody else could. "You know we can't go back, Al." Ed always saw this as absolute fact. He hated it, and it tore him apart. He wanted desperately to protect both worlds, and he thought he could do that if I just found that madman. Even with those thoughts, Winry flashed through his mind, and he felt more homesick than he had in a long time.

Noa sighed and looked down. If they went back, she wanted to go with them. In truth, she didn't want them to leave. Though the brothers never saw it, her eyes betrayed her feelings. There was a light glint of jealousy in her eyes. She remained silent, but she hated how much Winry occupied Ed's world. _"Why doesn't he look at me?"_ She let the brothers talk while she listened in.

"You're wrong, brother!" Al almost slammed his fists into the modified bed of the truck. "I know you, brother! You'll find a way back!" He looked more determined than at any time in their journey through this world. When trying to catch the crazed Alchemist, he looked so distant and out of sorts.

"Al…" The brothers look startled at Noa as she gently lifted her head to speak to them. "Don't you think he feels bad enough?" She almost looked surprised at herself that she said anything at all. Her eyes went wide as she covered her mouth with both hands.

Ed sighed. As he figured, he may as well answer the accusations. "No, he's right, Noa. I'm just letting him down, but I really don't know how we're going to get ba…" He was interrupted as the truck was jolted and forced to swerve. It felt like it was…slammed into by something. The sensation returned tenfold, and they were barely able to grasp something, anything, before the truck started to roll.

Ed tried to cry out to see if everybody was safe, but his voice didn't come out. He decided it better to look to see if at least Al and Noa were safe. He wasn't able to even give a sigh of relief as up became down, and they were all forced to let go as they came hard onto the ground. The truck wasn't able to stop and barrel rolled down the nearby slope. It took the driver and three remaining Gypsies with it.

Ed rubbed the back of his head as he tried to quickly recover, but he opened his eyes only to feel shock take center stage in his mind. He blinked unwilling to believe his own eyes. "You?!" Nearby, Al and Noa were at a loss for words. Noa saw this creature once before, and it still gave her nightmares.

Al felt he knew the creature, but he never saw it like this. "Who is it, brother?" After a short pause, Al rethought not asking his next question and just let it out. "What is it?" The creature was a long, sinuous dragon. Its tail curled behind it for what seemed like miles as it looked at the brothers Elric and Noa.

It reared back its head and let out a long, raucous laughter. The volume of its voice bellowed through the peaks and valleys, and echoes returned with slowly fading force. After long seconds, its laughter finally died down. "I am Envy, dear brother Alphonse." Though the creature spoke, it barely moved its mouth.

Ed grasped some grass, and anger was most apparent in his body language. Envy couldn't possibly be alive. He…It was consumed by an alchemic reaction. Hohenheim was even consumed as a result. He threw his head up to lock eyes with the atrocious creature. "Impossible! I saw you consumed in that alchemic reaction!"

Envy almost laughed. He was honestly suspecting Ed forgot one of the cornerstones of Alchemy. "You have me all wrong, dear brother Edward. It was Hohenheim whom was the components in _that_ reaction." He paused as he received and incredulous look from Ed. "Besides, the Gate didn't hold up its end of the bargain."

Ed's face contorted into confusion. He didn't know what Envy was talking about. Shaking his head, he fought back tears as they welled in his eyes. "Wha-What bargain?" He shook his head wondering if he had a concussion and fought to stand up.

Envy let out a throaty laugh. "I never wanted to see you again." He watched Ed's mouth hang agape. "I never wanted you back in this world." If possible, he smirked as a vein nearly popped from Ed's skull. "If the Gate would do that, I would return willingly." He flicked his tongue for good effect.

Ed sighed, and he finally stood on his feet. He grasped his unmoving right arm. He thought he broke some mechanics. "That's too bad, Envy. I destroyed this side of the Gate, and I can promise you that Roy destroyed the other." His lips twitched in annoyance as Envy once more erupted into laughter. He is obviously flustered. _"Who does this Homunculus think he is? Does he just want to get on my nerves?!"_

He was about to respond, but he is surprised as Al stepped forward. The anger was apparent in his voice. "What's so funny?!" Envy stopped laughing and turned his full attention at the younger Elric. "It's really hurting brother that he can't get back!" His entire body was shaking in fury. His fists were clenched as if preparing to fight back.

Envy took in the sight of the two boys. He wasn't interesting in petty squabbling. He came here for one reason. He wanted rid of these pests. "Isn't it obvious? I'm still here." He looked between Ed and Al waiting for realization to set in. It didn't come.

Ed felt ready to see if he could pull this dragon's throat out! "What is that supposed to mean?" He put one foot forward and managed to raise his right hand into the air. The internal mechanics whirred in complaint, but he even got his hand to tightly clench into a fist. The effect was what he wanted. He brandished his automail.

Envy made a guttural sigh. "So…" He paused to add dramatic effect. "…that means that the Gate is still usable." He made sure to sound nonchalant about it, as if it were the most natural conclusion in the world. He felt gratified to see the shocked and surprised expressions adorning both brothers Elric. Noa's face contorted into realization. They were going to do whatever it took to get back to their side.

Al's expression ran the gamut of emotions. The shock became surprise which led to joy, sorrow, fear, and expectation. "Brother…" He paused as he looked at Ed. It was obvious what he was feeling just looking into his eyes. "…that means…"

Ed stopped him short, and he nearly yelled as he looked at his younger brother. "No! We have to stop the uranium first." He paused and turned to face Envy once again. "We are here to _protect_ our world _and_ this one!"

Envy really was rather amused. As the brothers said more, it was becoming rather obvious just how hilarious he was finding the entire situation. He spoke up to keep the quarrel from continuing, and add to his amusement. "You think it's that simple?" He chuckled. "The Gate is the link between the two worlds. Nobody knows who or what created it."

He watched the expression on Ed's face. "Bah, don't give me that look. I'm not here to give you some religious speech." Ed was always Envy's favorite plaything. He was having fun toying with him. Still, he continued. "Energy flows through it to keep things balanced. Souls flow through it and are _created_ within to keep time flowing forward."

"Wait…" Ed's anger seemed to have subsided, even if slightly. He felt something new, astonishment. He took in a deep breath to process the information. If what Envy was saying was true, then their being here could very well be throwing things off balance. He just had to confirm a few things. "You're saying…no force can destroy the Gate?" Envy nodded. "It's...some sort of bridge between our worlds… It's the ultimate expression of Equivalent Exchange?"

If dragons could smirk, Envy would be wearing one of the broadest ones in existence. "That's precisely hit, dear brother Edward! Without it, the worlds would become extremely unbalanced…and life would end." He watched Ed sigh. "You cannot go against the laws you so dearly protect, those of Equivalent Exchange."

Ed gave Envy a scowl. "I need to find the Alchemist who brought uranium to this world." He was confident he could accomplish the task before balance became unraveled.

"No." Envy returned the scowl. "You need to leave before I decide to not be so generous and eat you!" He nearly screamed, and the brothers plus Noa felt how serious he was.

Ed found himself growing angry again. "What are you, a fool?! That is a Forbidden Element for a reason!" He knew what uranium and other radioactive elements could do. He had a far more intimate knowledge of their workings than this world, and it scared him what was possible.

"Brother…" Al tried to console his brother, but all he received was an angry look. Al was taken aback, and he held his arms up defensively. He was scared of his brother's current temperament.

Ed sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his left hand, which caused his right arm to fall useless to his side. "I'm sorry, Al." He didn't mean to scare his brother. He was so worked up because of Envy he forgot to control his expression.

Envy only laughed at the exchange. He really was quite amused today, and his mirth only brought the ire of both brothers. Noa was just confused. "What are you talking about?"

Envy turned his full attention to her, and the brothers were worried for her safety. He wasn't going to hurt her. He was going to explain exactly what the brothers needed to hear. "Uranium was brought here by an Alchemist driven mad by his own ambitions. Ed wants to stop it because of the damage he has already witnessed, thanks to the Gate. What they don't realize is that…that much energy coming from Human Transmutation causes a great deal of change."

Ed looked to Envy with curiosity. He still held onto his resentment, but he had to know what the deranged Homunculus was talking about. "What do you mean?" He almost cursed himself for speaking without a hint of anger in his voice, but he couldn't change what was already past.

Envy once more turned his full attention toward Ed. "Several Forbidden Elements are now naturally occurring, including uranium." He could see the seething response ready to come from the elder Elric and worried reply wordlessly etched to the younger. He stopped them. "Equivalent Exchange, the absolute law of your world, is about to be made into scientific theory here! That is what causes those massive explosions, the mushroom-shaped clouds, you saw in the vision the Gate gave you."

Ed slammed his fist into the ground as he fell to his knees. Al choked back a gasp. Ed snarled as he looked back to Envy and screamed. "You're trying to say that we can't stop it!" He calmed and added his question. "…aren't you?"

Envy grinned, if that was even possible. Ed finally was aware of the situation. He decided to rub a little salt on the wound. "Exactly. The person you're hunting no longer exists. His _knowledge_ melded with another in this world. He's neither evil nor mad. He simply wants to help this world, and his aid will end the coming war…even if he regrets it." Envy almost chided himself. It was technically a lie. The mad Alchemist's knowledge actually melded into several minds.

Ed sighed and trembled. "I still…need to find him first! I have to stop it…somehow…" His eyes wavered as he rested his forehead on the hard, stone ground. He wanted to just end the chase and go home, but he felt too much was at stake. Al looked at his elder brother with a saddened expression. The desire to stop the Forbidden Element from making its way any further into this world was the whole reason he came back here in the first place. He had every intention of leaving Winry and Al behind.

Ed wasn't trying to be a hero. He was just trying to do what was right. He clenched his fists in stubborn determination. "You can't stop his dream, Envy." Al's voice held fast as he all but yelled at the creature. Ed and Noa both were startled from their own thoughts as they looked at him.

Envy slowly turned to the younger Elric. "I didn't stop it. That Alchemist's greed did. He no longer exists because he wanted war in your world, and his ambitions will now end war in this one." He really didn't like how the brothers Elric kept trying to argue. He knew how obvious it was, and they weren't realizing it.

Ed looked at Envy confused. _"How could such a horrible weapon end war?"_ He gathered himself and stood once more. "End?" He scoffed. How can killing so many end the war?"

Once more, that unnerving feeling that Envy was smirking was felt. A prideful air surrounded him. He knew he won the argument. It just was taking the brothers Elric a little too long to realize it. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

* * *

Can you tell how much I love Roy/Riza? Anyway, I'm taking some liberties with Mustang's subordinates, so be prepared if you don't think something meshes quite right.

For anybody questioning it, I am _not_ trying to make political or historical commentary. I am trying to see things through the eyes of the characters. I may or may not agree with certain things characters are saying, but they are all part of plotting. If you liked what was said, fine. If you didn't, fine.

I appreciate comments and constructive criticism, but outright flames will be ignored.

Story Word Count: 10,025  
Story Page Count: 20


	3. Chapter 2: Voice in the Sky

Sadly, there are no reviews to comment on.

* * *

**Voice in the Sky  
**

The sunlight slowly filtered through the window and into the room as the sun rose over the horizon. She muffled a sigh as her golden tresses reflected the offending light disturbing her slumber. The sigh turned into a moan as she jostled her pillow from underneath her head, and it was quickly placed over her face as she fought her body's urge to wake up. She was never a morning person, and she never pretended to be.

She really knew what was coming next. It was the same routine every morning. The door burst open, and she shot into a seated position her blue eyes glaring at the interruption. A darkly tanned girl beamed from the doorframe. She was commonly known as Bunny for her inhuman speed and acrobatics. She also became an assistant, of sorts, to the blond-haired, blue-eyed girl since she studied under Jaafar to improve her already formidable skills.

"Come on, Winry! It's time to start the day!" Bunny was enthusiastic as always. Since Winry became her primary automail mechanic, she spent less time pestering Tommy. The Ricardo family never minded seeing her; at least Lear and Sadila said so. It also didn't hurt that their child, and Tommy's grandchild, looked up to them like big sisters. They'd visit when they could just to see Alexander Ricardo.

Winry changed position in her bed so she was seated on the edge. "I ever tell you how much I hate mornings?" She said that, but she had a business to run. She was no longer an apprentice but a master. Besides Bunny, she had two apprentices of her own. Rockbell Automail was her life and livelihood. It still didn't mean she had to like mornings.

Before Bunny could answer, they heard the doorbell chime. Instead of chiding her friend and boss, she turned to look over her shoulder. "Huh? It looks like we've already drummed up some business!" She heard the muffled sounds of the apprentices greeting and starting with the first customer of the day. "Hurry up and get dressed!"

The door closed behind her as Bunny left the room. Winry was left to send a cold glower at the door. Her only consolation was that the weekend meant she got to close up shop and visit the Ricardo family. She might even make a special stop to see Jaafar. With a heavy sigh, she got dressed, grabbed her giant wrench, and made her way downstairs.

She wasn't surprised to hear her apprentices arguing as she came down. She had one question as always. _"Why doesn't Bunny ever stop them?"_ She sighed. The girl was a bit of a prankster. It had taken several months after 'graduating' from Jaafar's workshop to get her real name out of her, and she still insisted on being called Bunny. Not only that, she never got tired of testing people's nerves and running along the rooftops.

It made it harder that her apprentices were siblings. To make matters even worse, they were fraternal twins, brother and sister. They were Calvin and Cybil Kearny. Their family was another matter. The Kearny family was famous throughout Amestris for their powerful trading company. It even held massive investments in the country bordering to the south, Aelgo.

Calvin was actually the younger of the sixteen year old twins. He was younger by almost an hour, but was still the larger. He was probably the dominant in the womb; though, one couldn't tell looking at them now. His dirty auburn hair lay in a matted mess, and his face was covered in grease from the early-morning shop work. He had piercing hazel eyes bordering on golden in color. He stood around one-hundred, seventy-five, and a quarter centimeters tall. He wore dark-blue overalls over a tan shirt.

Cybil was slightly shorter than her toned brother at one-hundred, sixty-two, and a half centimeter. She was easily lither than him; though, he was stronger. They would make a great combination one day. In the meantime, their personalities clashed nearly as much as their appearances contrasted each other. Her hair was significantly lighter than his, almost appearing silvery. With red eyes, she was most likely albino. Her skin complexion was lighter than his, and he was overprotective about outdoor activities.

There was still the matter of their obnoxious arguing so early in the morning with a waiting client. Winry turned to Bunny with a dissatisfied frown. "Belilanca Rivera…" All motion in the shop ceased, with exception of the patron. Bunny and her apprentices knew when the former's full, real name was used…a fowl mood was rising. The icy gaze she gave them told them further disturbances were _not_ welcome. "…how is our customer?"

Bunny blanched at the idea of answering to her given name. She knew better than to argue, however. She held up a clipboard and flipped through a few papers. Calvin and Cybil may argue a lot, but they get their job done quickly and efficiently. "His name is Kenneth Troy. He wears automail which covers nearly the entire left side of his body due to an old war injury. It is currently damaged but repairable."

Winry nodded a few times during Bunny's concise explanation. She thought she vaguely remembered his name, but left well enough alone. She rolled her short sleeves to her shoulders and adjusted the straps to her overalls before putting on some gloves and approaching Kenneth. "Welcome to Rockbell Automail. I hope your experience here will be a good. Despite first impressions, we are a well-oiled machine."

Kenneth Troy looked up to Winry with a weary smile. It was hard to tell how genuine the smile was because of how badly scarred the left side of his face was. That part of his lips was permanently upturned because of how the tissue hardened as it healed. He was also missing the same ear, and same eye was permanently half-closed. His good eye revealed a gentle, azure color. His remaining, if receding, hair was capped grey and slowly turning white.

His left arm and leg were fully exposed. As Bunny reported from Calvin and Cybil's written explanations, they were both automail and in disrepair. Unlike some automail users, there were no indications he was shy about it. He actually wore a short-sleeved shirt and short-legged pants. The belonging's box sitting next to him only held his wallet, a pocket watch, wedding band, and silver-heart locket.

He stood and offered his right hand to Winry, which she accepted and shook. When she released his hand, he stood for a moment to observe her. At only twenty, she still looked so young to him. He had a hard time imagining how she was already recognized as one of the best automail mechanics in Rush Valley, which spoke highly of her skill. He didn't dwell in such thoughts. It was assumptions that gave him this body in the first place. "Well met Winry. We can dispense the formalities. Instead of Mr. Troy or Kenneth, just call me Ken."

Winry nodded. She didn't have a 'the customer is always right' philosophy. Often in the world of automail mechanics, one had to _ignore_ the customer to ensure the right thing was done. However, this instance was of making the customer feel more comfortable. "I'll keep that in mind, Ken. The girl with authority…" She indicated Bunny. "…is my assistant, Bunny. The two brash teens are Calvin and Cybil, and they are my apprentices."

Ken's eyes widened slightly, or as much as they could. He knew having apprentices at such a young age was no easy feat. She probably would have to have gotten recommendations from other master craftsmen not looking to take on apprentices. Still, the smile returned to his complexion. "I like the mood of this shop." He paused for a moment. "I was recommended here by a common acquaintance."

Winry stifled a sigh. There were plenty of instances where Tommy or Jaafar 'recommended' clients to her just to get them off their own backs. Her face hardened into a nearly stony grimace. "Is that so? I'm glad to hear my skills are reaching so far and wide through word of mouth."

Ken would have smirked if he could. "I have some information to share with you. I think it's quite valuable, so…" He paused for a moment at the incredulous look he was receiving. They already knew where he was heading with this. "…we might work out some fair accommodations for price." His statement felt more like a question, but it was obvious he thought he had something to haggle with.

Winry deeply inhaled and exhaled. She wasn't going to play this game. If the information wasn't worth it, she wasn't about to give him a break on the price. In fact, she was tempted to raise the price just for his impertinence. Her stony glower never left her face as she didn't hesitate to respond. "You can tell me now, so I can decide what to do with you. I can't say I'm willing to refuse your patronage, but, if I don't like what you have to say, the price goes up."

Before Ken could respond, it was Calvin whom spoke up. "W-Wait, Winry!" She encouraged her apprentices to call her by her name rather than 'master' or Ms. Rockbell, so her gaze held no anger when he called her. "Do you think it's wise to raise the price just because of something like that?"

Cybil scoffed. "Of course it is!" The twins seemed ready to start arguing all over again. "He was the one who had the audacity to insult Winry with the idea that _information_ might be worth more than her time!" Just as the argument was about to get heated and Winry jump in to stop it, all heads turned to Ken as he gently chuckled.

Winry let out an exasperated sigh. Calvin and Cybil didn't understand how valuable information could really be. Ken stopped laughing as she started explaining. "You two really don't know anything. If the information is valuable enough, I might even take on a job for no additional charge. The problem is that I don't like people assuming the information is so valuable they can haggle a price before we even get started. Now, Ken…?"

Ken nodded at the question left hanging. He quickly eyed Bunny in the corner. She remained oddly quiet through everything. He was well aware of her automail legs. She was probably a combination assistant and bodyguard. That knowledge in mind, he turned his full attention to Winry Rockbell, proprietor of Rush Valley's famous Rockbell Automail.

* * *

Ed wore a scowl. He managed to make it to a small border community with Al and Noa. His mood was soured due to Envy, and the general climate of the community hadn't helped any. With a final growl, he slammed his fists into the table they were seated at. The action brought additional attention to them from the already wary tavern patrons. Al and Noa didn't exactly want the attention, so they tried their best to pacify him.

Al was the first to speak up. "We still have time to think, brother." He gently nudged Noa to try to get her help. She opened her mouth to speak, but he noticed her pause. She felt the scornful gazes fall upon her from all around them, and Al fought to keep his temper in check as he continued. "What are we going to do, brother?" Noa felt a pang in her chest at that question.

Ed scoffed. "Yeah right!" His outburst brought her out of her self-pitied trance. "If he thinks we're going to scare that easily, he's got another thing coming!" The plates and dinnerware rattled again as his automail arm fell hard onto the wood grain. He was _not_ happy. After they encountered Envy, they had to walk to town. He told them they had until sunset to decide what they were going to do. Really, his words were an ultimatum. The brothers Elric could either say their goodbyes or try their luck at fighting that demonic creature.

Noa's eyes widened. She recognized that tone of voice. She also knew how stubborn he was, and he was most certainly a fighter. "Edward!" It was rare enough for her to use his full name; it was rarer still for her to raise her voice. Instead of the pacifier, she was now drawing attention. She was on the verge of tears thinking about what Envy would do to him if they fought. "What if he's right?" She _never_ wanted to see him leave. She'd be the first to admit that, but it was better that he lived.

Ed just blinked unable to do anything but stare at her for a moment. He was dumbfounded. "Wha…?" He stumbled for the right words. "What are you talking about?!" He realized he used more force than he was intending when Noa drew back slightly.

Noa opened her mouth to reply, but she was interrupted when the table reverberated with the obvious thump of a fist slamming against it. Ed, Al, and Noa looked up to see the tavern owner standing there. His fist was firmly planted where it fell with a slip of paper wedged between it and the wooden surface. He wore a scowl as he plainly looked at Noa. "I think it's time for you to leave. Now pay your tab and get out!"

Al was about to get up to reprimand the proprietor when Ed stuck his arm out as a sign to stop. "It's okay, Al. We'll leave." He paused for a moment as he stood. He didn't bother to hide his disdain. As he abruptly stood erect, the chair screeched behind him and nearly fell to the ground. "Noa…" She looked at him with a surprised blink. "Could you pay the man?"

The tavern owner growled. "The gypsy's money's no good here!" He heard the table complaining under the weight Ed put on it. He was surprised by what he saw. The young blond wasn't even putting any effort, let alone weight, into it. He just leaned on the table while he smirked at him. The tavern owner lifted his chin to look down on the young man condescendingly. "What's so funny?"

Ed held his breath momentarily. It was all he could do to stop himself from breaking out into laughter. The tavern owner was fat, and he was pig-headed. He actually thought he had the upper hand just because the three at the table were less than half his age. Ed took in a deep breath and made to make it sound like a sigh. "Then I guess there's no problem."

He paused. The proprietor gave him a questioning look. "What do you mean, boy?" He had that odd feeling he got just before somebody lied to him. He could almost hear the gears turning in the young man's head. He felt his face twitch at a certain thought. The three might be planning to dine-and-dash, and he was thinking of just how he would torture them.

Ed leaned forward a bit more. He seemed to hold an authority betraying years of experience he shouldn't have. "You see; it's my money." His smirk broadened as the tavern owner seemed to choke on his own tongue. "It's just that she's so kind to keep track of it for me." The tavern owner was trapped. He either had to accept the money or _let_ them go.

It was an obvious lie, but he accepted the money and gruffly made them leave. Of course, Ed had the biggest smirk on his face as he left the insulting tavern with Al and Noa. Al sighed and rolled his eyes as he spoke up. "Why'd you have to go and do that, brother?" He already knew the answer.

Ed's smirk turned to a frown as a scowl took over his face. He shuffled his feet as the three of them continued down the street. They rounded a corner, and he kicked up some dust before answering. "I just hate to see faces like that. Her money's as good as ours." She smiled, but he continued before she could say anything. "No, I guess it's better 'cause she's _from_ this world."

A silent 'thank-you' passed her lips unheard as Al sighed and shrugged. "You don't ever change, brother." His shoulders slumped with the seriousness of his own tone. "What if you made things worse and a scuffle broke out?" He knew the answer to this question, too.

Ed had what he felt was the perfect answer. Even if his younger brother knew what he was going to say, he still had a flare for the dramatic. He wore his witty smirk before grinding his first into an open automail palm. "I'd just have to punch all their teeth out and squash them like bugs!" He added to his dramatics with childish faces and gestures almost like he was imitating what he just said. Al and Noa were surprised to feel their mood uplifted, even if slightly, and share a giggle.

They continued to walk down the streets with no destination in particular in mind. They were wandering rather aimlessly, but they made sure to keep walking relatively _away_ from the offending tavern. As they were walking, they happened upon a Church. The structure appeared old and worn, and an obvious replacement was under construction, and nearly complete, just down the road. They could clearly see inside, and it looked to be condemned.

Ed stopped causing the rest to come to a halt behind him. "It's strange, Al." While his statement seemed final, he seemed to trail off. That sentence, of course, got Al's attention, and Ed just continues without awaiting a reply. "I won't pretend I was ever religious, but at least I understand one thing. That Cross and that Alter were never supposed to represent this." He knew it was just people and their imperfections.

Noa smiled and bowed her head slightly. "No, Ed, it doesn't." She used the present tense understanding perfectly what he meant, and she also understood that not everybody was horrible. "I think…it confuses people." She knew her argument was weak. "'How are we supposed to love?' I think people ask when their lives have hardships." She looked at the brothers Elric with a sad smile. "After the War, a lot of countries just deteriorated. Perhaps it was worse in Germany and surrounding countries, and the people looked for somebody to blame."

Ed scratched the back of his head. He hadn't meant to depress Noa. They were in a small village bordering Germany now, though. The contemptuous glares were constantly directed towards her. Even the brothers Elric couldn't escape the gaze. "Yeah… I guess that Adolf person isn't exactly helping morale around here, either." As he said that, he knew exactly how that man had poisoned the hearts and minds of the people. He had the Gate and current events to thank for that.

Ed tightly gripped his good hand into a fist at his side. He stared up at the clouds and nearly yelled what he had to say next. "I just think people need to look forward to the bright future!" He felt Noa's gaze as she suddenly looked up to him with astonishment in her eyes. He continued as he clenched his fist tighter, and his knuckles started to whiten. "I may not understand why Envy says the forbidden element will end the terrible things that are about to happen, but I do know war just brings more death and hardship."

Noa smiled and gently took Ed's tightly clenched hand into both hers. He looked at her a bit surprised. She didn't know what she believed, but sometimes both sides just had to combine their opinions to be right. She might be playing devil's advocate, but she was willing to test those waters. "I think Envy's right." Ed and Al blink in astonishment.

Ed drew his hand back as he stared at her. "What are you talking about?" His entire body went rigid when he noticed the tears welling in her eyes. He felt guilty. Maybe he hurt her when he, in his racing mind, violently jerked his hand away.

Through the tears, she wore a gentle, genuine smile. "I think its' the way humans are." She tilted her head to one side as she closed her eyes. "We can't quite understand, but we try our best. Even if it's the wrong path, shouldn't we at least try it?"

Ed was speechless. He was, perhaps, willing to admit he was a little naive, but he wasn't about to agree that anything Envy said had anything to do with reality. Because of his unwillingness to accept any of it, he had no idea where her words seemed to suddenly come from. As he tried to muster something to say, he heard Al in an outburst. "Are you saying it's all right for this to happen?"

Noa straightened up and shook her head. Even if she could understand Envy, that admission was simply something she could and would never make. "No." She paused in momentary thought. Even if Ed didn't mean it, realize it, or notice it, his words had a way of sticking to the very core of the people around him. "I just think that if we are to head into a bright future we need to stumble along ourselves…"

Ed's mouth was agape, and Al was taken aback. "Noa…" Ed clenched his fists again before releasing them in something similar to surrender. "Are you sure about this?" She wiped her eyes with a shake of her head and a serene smile. She didn't need to verbally answer. "You know we can't take you with us." He was sad to think she already reached a decision without them.

Noa nodded her head. "I think I'd like to see this world's bright future." She almost felt excited, but she knew it meant being separated from the man she fell in love with; though, she could never admit it. His feelings for his childhood friend were just too strong, and she knew she couldn't compete.

Ed shrugged in a seemingly nonchalant manner. "We'd be leaving you to a cruel fate." He saw exactly how cruel that fate was thanks to the accursed Gate. He still wasn't one-hundred percent sure about the idea of going back.

Again, Noa nodded. "The world is about to change, so 'fate' might just catch its sales on a new wind." After her nearly prophetic words, she turned to Al. Through the entire exchange he just stared at them with a classic, confused expression on his face. It was almost like his eyes transmitted his questions.

* * *

Ken walked with a sever limp as Winry led him to the service room. She was still processing the information he gave her. She never suspected it possible. She sent him to a closet towards the back of the room and told him to undress and get into the, effectively, hospital gown. She'd adjust it when he came out and was laid out on the table, so she could work on the whole of his automail.

When the closet door closed, she leaned against the doorframe. Calvin and Cybil entered. They were having a staring contest since arguing was out of the question. Giving their master a headache a second time in twenty minutes was _never_ a good idea. They heard what the old man said, too. They didn't know what was more surprising. Bunny even seemed to be using her brain more than usual.

Roy Mustang returned to Central, and he had a trial before the Amestris Council. He was expected to, at least, be fully reinstated as an officer to the proud Amestris State Alchemist Corps. Calvin and Cybil knew of Mustang of course. The current leader of the Amestris military wanted to parade him as a scapegoat, a traitor who killed Fuhrer King Bradley.

They were surprised to find out Winry knew each member of the famed Mustang Seven. They held the same celebrity as the Council of Seven, maybe more. When Ken mentioned that Sheska was in charge of Mustang's intelligence network, Winry dropped her large wrench. Winry _never_ dropped her wrench! They never saw their master as speechless as that. They weren't sure they liked it.

It was the moment Winry agreed to give him a huge discount which surprised them the most. That event nearly started another argument. Cybil made some comment about how dense Calvin was, and he responded with how flat her chest was. Needless to say, Bunny stopped them before Winry decided to pick up that wrench and put it to good use…crushing their skulls.

The closet opened, and Ken emerged with the hospital gown on. He walked to the operating table and sat down. Calvin and Cybil immediately ended their staring contest and set to work on the elder. They were careful to adjust his gown for their master to more easily work on his automail. He smiled at Winry as she pushed off the wall and walked towards him. As if on cue, Bunny rounded the corner and rolled up her sleeves.

* * *

It took most of the morning, but Winry expertly repaired Ken's automail. Already back in his clothes, he rotated his shoulder and kicked his leg to test the work. After exhaling a relieved sigh, he turned back to the blond automail mechanic. "I thank you, Ms. Rockbell."

She held up a hand to stop him before he went any further. "Please, just call me Winry." She gave him a genuine smile. "Besides, you're perfectly welcome. I should thank you for that info, though."

Ken kindly nodded as he stood up and collected his belongings. He carefully attached his wedding band to a special knuckle attachment above his left ring finger. He responded to her even as he gazed at it. "No need to thank me." Though the smile could not fully reach his lips, the gentle gleam in his eyes said he was. He stood and made his way to the door. "It was my mission, anyway."

Winry blinked, dumbfounded, as the man left her shop. She felt a vein ready to pop as her face twitched in anger. Bunny, Calvin, and Cybil were already backing away. "What did he say?!" Her voice echoed through Rush Valley, and people feared for their wellbeing.

Ken made a beeline for the train station. He was chuckling as he passed the register with ticket in hand. "Well, looks like my assignment is done. I hope you aren't too mad, little lady." He kept bouts of laughter in check as he rushed to the passenger car. "I can promise you it was worth it to give me that discount."

* * *

"Psst!" Ed and Al nearly jumped as they heard a voice coming from behind them, within the Church. Ed readied himself for a fight, not entirely sure what was about to happen. The brothers and Noa turn to see…a young man, no older than twenty-four or five. He was waving them to come in. "I'm sorry to startle you, but I want a word with you."

Ed threw his right hand across his body in a sign of open protest. It really didn't help that this stranger bore a striking resemblance to Roy Mustang and, unbeknownst to him, looked exactly like Benjamin Daniels. He quickly stated exactly what was on his mind and in his body language. "Why should we trust you?!" His voice was obviously laced with venom.

The man smiled gently and serenely. "You were just talking about the difficulty of the human condition, the Lord, and you're with somebody _Mein Kampf_ is slowly making an enemy of the state." He showed no anger or hostility in his words. His eyes seemed genuinely apologetic and sincere towards Noa, a drastic change to what they'd experience thus far in the small, border town.

Noa blinked as she adjusted to the kind expression. She was also surprised for the most direct way she'd ever heard anybody talk about Adolf Hitler's 'great' masterpiece. Even as he continued to gaze at her, there were no signs of malice among his features. She was starting to feel calmed from earlier events. "My name is Benjamin Heizendorf. Please, come with me. It's not safe to speak where eavesdropping might come back to pinch us."

Speaking his peace, Benjamin continued to wave them in even as he disappeared into the shadows of the Church. Noa was the first to move forward, only to be jolted back when Ed grasped her wrist. "What do you think you're doing? We know nothing about him."

Noa smiled and gazed into his eyes. Her face curled into a smile, the first true one all day. "I can see that he understands out questions better than we do ourselves." She spoke clearer than even the past few minutes. "I think we can trust him…since his eyes were soft towards me."

Her words struck him. She was more at ease now. She was so nervous within the tavern from the contemptuous eyes that she could barely muster the courage to speak. He almost forgot since she had calmed down slightly since then. He released her arm and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He gave a malcontent sigh. With his body language speaking surrender, his voice followed suite. "Yeah… Fine, this place _is_ supposed to be a Sanctuary too, right?"

Al watched with mild confusion on his face. He silently whispered to himself as he followed Ed and Noa into the Church. "These two are intent on leaving me in the dark today…" Even so, he allowed himself to be led deeper into the corridors. They descended a flight of stairs and rounded another hallway past offices.

Ed was becoming more and more frustrated as they were led deeper. He knew Benjamin was leading them to a place they could talk in private. That much was obvious. It still seemed far too much for him. "Hey! Where, exactly, are you leading us?!" He stopped, leaned his right side forwards, and stamped the same foot while waving said arm all in protest.

Benjamin continued forward as he spoke, and neither Noa nor Al stopped for the tirade. "They say the walls have ears."

Ed's lips twitched in anger. "They also say the Lord sees all!" He figured he could match wit with sarcasm any day of the week. He thought that one pretty witty, and he folded his arms over his chest in a triumphant display.

Benjamin didn't appear to think so as he responded. "That the Lord sees this doesn't concern me. It's that those blindly loyal to the Fuhrer of _Mein Kampf_ hear what I'm about to say."

Ed moved his mouth as if he was about to make another response, but he instead sighed and slouched his back in utter defeat. "He kicked up some dust as he continued following. "If I'm hearing you right, you hate this highly regarded book as much as we do." He paused to consider and measure Benjamin's reaction. "Am I right?"

Benjamin smiled and nodded. Not a moment after, he came to a stop and opened a door to what appeared to be a Cardinal or other Church official's office. "That would be correct, and this would be our destination.

The brothers Elric and Noa marveled at what they saw as the entered. It was definitely an office, and it was filled with books, scrolls, and artifacts. Al was the first to comment. "What is this place?" He gawked at a globe bathed in dim, candle light.

Benjamin smiled sadly, and he heaved a reminiscent sigh. After his guests filed in, he closed the door. "It used to be my office." They turned their attention to gaze at him in curious wonder, and he walked around his desk to take a seat. "Ever since this Churched was condemned, it's become my Sanctuary. I can converse privately with the Lord…and seek salvation for those _Mein Kampf _puts in jeopardy."

Though initially surprised to hear that this place 'used to be' Benjamin's office, what Ed just heard him say made the whole thing make a lot of sense. He smirked with a shrug in his seemingly conceited way as he responded. "So, I'm to believe that you were removed from your office because you don't want to go along with Adolf Hitler's ideals?"

Benjamin gave them a small smile before lighting another candle to give dimly lit room some more much needed light. "The fact that I was removed and this Church condemned is proof enough of the Third Reich's ever increasing influence and reach. If things keep going the way they are…" He paused to reign in his fury. "…Hitler will be Fuhrer, and war will come." He spoke with assured finality.

Ed clenched his good fist and his entire body shook in restrained anger. His breathing quickened, and he fought to remain somewhat composed. When he finally spoke, he bordered on yelling. "You're okay with that?!" He stood with his feet at shoulder width and harms rigid away from his body.

Benjamin wasn't surprised by the outburst. He read the impatience earlier. He gently shook his head. "No sane person is ever okay with war. If it's to come, one might just call it a trial from the Lord." He paused in consideration. "No… I suppose that's wrong, too." He cupped his chin in thought. "What I mean to say is that there's nothing I can do to stop it, but I'll do my best to alleviate some pain."

Ed just looked at him confused as he stammered a response. "Wha-…? What do you…mean?" He didn't know the carefully guarded secrets.

Benjamin opened a drawer and pulled out several sheets of paper. "I'd like you to introduce yourself, first." He still hadn't heard the boys or girl's names.

Before either of the brothers could respond, Noa stepped forwards and politely bowed. "Dear Benjamin, I am Noa. These are my friends, Edward and Alphonse Elric. Though, they're fine with Ed and Al." Before Benjamin could respond to the introduction as he obviously wanted to, Noa continued with something that brought shock to the brothers Elric, and Benjamin dropped his jaw in confusion. "You won't be needing those papers for these two. They already have transportation out of this deplorable mess."

For several long moments, Benjamin stared at Noa. He didn't know exactly how to respond. Instead, he coughed in a vain attempt to regain composure. Another moment longer and he figured he gathered enough wits to at least form a response. "I see… Then, why wouldn't you have the same?"

The brothers Elric nearly seized up as they wondered how she was going to respond. They held their breath when she spoke before they said or did anything. "That's a long and complicated story I'm not even sure I believe."

Benjamin heaved a sigh and looked between the three of them. He wasn't able to quite figure out what was going on, but it seemed there was some piece of information they were unwilling…or unable to share. He finally relented on pursuing that information and continued with what the papers were. "Seeing as Edward and Alphonse are safe, I'll just prepare one set then." He paused to watch them. "You see; I've come across some very valuable papers here…to safely transport any individual I see as endangered to the United States. It's a rough journey across the Atlantic, but I figure it's safer there than here."

Ed shook his head. "As Noa said, you can just call us Ed and Al." He leaned his head back and took a slightly conceited tone. "That naming etiquette you have isn't important to us." He knew the Germanic naming rules, and he wasn't about to be part of it.

Benjamin had to chuckle at that response. "It doesn't' appear you were raised in this country." He smiled as he was about to continue, but a loud cry stopped him.

"Wait!" Al's sudden response was fraught with confusion and apprehension. He wore a somewhat frantic look on his face. "What do you mean by that?" He paused as he thought about the best way of phrasing his questions. He didn't come up with any ways to properly voice them, so he just leaves them very open ended. "United States? Atlantic?"

Ed closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh yeah…" He dubiously paused. "I never explained that to you… Did I, Al?" He really didn't feel like explaining the 'nature' of this world to him, and he didn't have the necessary tools.

Benjamin was rather perplexed, and his face showed it. He looked to Noa. "I can see why you might not be able to explain things to me…" He got up and pulled cord to unfurl a scroll hanging from the ceiling.

The ceiling scroll revealed a map of the world as it uncurled and was tugged to a stop. Al quickly made out 'United States' and 'Atlantic' connected to 'of America' and 'Ocean' respectively. His face was plastered with obvious awe as he viewed the map of the world they resided at the moment for the first time. The next thing he took note of is how small 'Europe' actually was… The entire scope was so different than he'd imagined that only one word came to mind. "Amazing…"

* * *

Kenneth Troy sat near the window of his private chamber, and he watched the scenery roll by. The train moved quickly through the countryside; its destination was Central. He smiled at his reflection in the glass portal. "I really laid it on thick back there." He couldn't contain the chuckle.

_"Did you like what you _saw_?"_ Ken closed his eyes and wore a wide smile. There was no one besides him in his room, and no one slipped in while he wasn't paying attention.

Not one to skip a beat, he was quick to respond. "Aw, is that some sort of bad joke? You just emphasize 'saw'." He chuckled imagining an untrusting look to his invisible conversationalist.

_"You know very well what I meant."_ Ken heard the being sigh. _"You went there because your commander asked you to, but you have your own reasons."_ A shadow seemed to mass and pass by the plain of the window.

It was Ken's turn to sigh. "I'll have to repay her for that. It had to be _her_ to repair my automail." There was a long silence, and he fought the urge to smirk. He knew his face wouldn't contort that way anymore, and it hurt to try. "Is that silence, my old friend?"

_"I was just wondering when you'd stop being stupid."_ The invisible being paused long enough for Ken to laugh at that._ "Did you _see_ what you went there to _see_?"_ Whatever the being was, it seemed to always emphasize the same word.

Ken looked straight into the now mirror-like surface of the window. The sclera of his left eye looked like black flames. He closed his eyes and heaved a breath. "Yeah, I did. The imprint of that boy is strong on her. The serpent is moving, and the present beats down the inevitable path to the future."

He heard the exasperated sigh. _"Don't try to sound prophetic. It's not like you."_ There was a short pause. _"Don't die before it's time."_

Ken leaned back in his chair. "Wouldn't dream of it." When he could not longer feel the presence of the familiar, if invisible, conversationalist, he stood to open the compartment above his head. He pulled out a pillow and blanket and prepared for a nap.

* * *

Winry was able to finish her day on a happy note. After Ken left, business seemed to really boom. She actually had to leave Calvin and Cybil alone to a few clients, and she returned to find they weren't trying to kill each other. Bunny was stuck on gofer duty. She was an assistant, but she knew next to nothing about actual automail repair. Unlike the first customer, the rest were polite. In other words, not a single one besides Ken left the golden-haired automail mechanic ready to kill.

Winry sat at the counter contemplating what she was going to do. It wasn't unusual for an automail mechanic to close up shop for a few days, even a week or two, to take care of personal business or take care of a special patient. She didn't have any coming appointments, and she had permission to refer clientele to her old mentors.

As she weighed her options, she realized two things. One, she had to find out just what Mustang was up to. Two, she had three spies. With a twitch of her brow, she threw her large wrench through the open doorway. The sound of metal on skull and cry of pain told her she hit her mark. She rubbed her brow. "Looks like we have a few, little rats."

Sheepishly, her assistant and two apprentices stepped through the portal. Calvin was rubbing a welt on his forehead, and Cybil carried the oversized wrench. Bunny was the first to speak. "Hey, that ain't fair. We were just worried about you. That Ken guy said some pretty heavy stuff."

Winry shot her friend and assistant a sharp look. Cybil spread her arms in a pleading shrug. "Winry, we were just worried about you!" She shivered under the icy glower. "You're friends with that Sheska person he mentioned, right?" She paused for a response, but she never got one.

Calvin shrugged with an unhappy sigh. "If you wanna see this friend, we can't blame ya." He had a gleam in his eyes as he stared Winry down. "We can close down shop. It's been a while since we took a real break." He nearly ducked when she stood, but he slowly lowered his arms when he realized she was only looking out the window with a far-off look.

Bunny approached her blond friend and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Listen, we can all go." She giggled lightly. "Besides, our clientele know us well enough to know that without the master here, the rest of us would run around like chickens with our heads cut off!"

Winry looked to her with a smile on her face before walking past her and patting her shoulder. She walked between Calvin and Cybil while retrieving her wrench from the latter. She turned around and unfurled a parchment. She stated what it said even as they read it to themselves. "We are closing up for a trip to Central. If you wish to schedule an appointment, contact Thomas Ricardo."

Bunny sweated nervously. "Tommy's not going to like being called by his full name…" She heaved a sigh. At least Winry made up her mind. Her slightly distraught demeanor was quickly replaced by a bright smile. "When do we leave?"

Winry considered it for just a moment. "We leave tomorrow morning. Tonight, let's visit the Ricardo family. I want to see cute little Alex." As expected, a big, bright smile was plastered over her face. It nearly reached ear to ear as she left the room.

Calvin gave the bump on his head one last, gentle rub as he watched her leave. "Man, her mood swings more than a girl in PMS…" Needless to say, he said too much in a house full of women. His forehead welt had company as he lay sprawled out on the floor, and Bunny and Cybil left with respective huffs.

* * *

Benjamin carefully picked up a book with gold-trimmed pages. "Are those two really going to be okay?" Asking his peace, he sat at his chair behind his desk once again. Ed and Al left a few minutes ago, and he led them out of his personal Sanctuary.

Noa smiled sadly and nodded slowly. She kept her eyes closed to push the tears back. "They've got somewhere they really have to be, and that place…" She paused to wipe a stray tear off her cheek. "…isn't with us."

He considered her for a minute. He didn't understand what she meant by… "'…us'?" He didn't bother hiding his confusion.

She nodded with an affirmative noise. She remained silent for a long moment, and he politely allowed her to speak in her own time. When she finally did, she looked up to him and met his eyes with her moist ones. "I said it was a difficult story; didn't I?" Her gaze never shifted.

Benjamin chuckled gently as he rubbed her right thumb across the title of the book he picked up a little while ago, _The Bible_. "I imagine it's going to be hard for you." When he looked across the room again, Noa's eyes were tightly closed. He looked at her clasped hands. With the ambient light, he had one, simple thought. _"She looks like a praying angel."_ He wore a soft smile at the idea.

He wondered how long her prayer would be. He didn't want to disturb her, but he was curious what she was thinking. After a protracted silence, he decided to break the semi-comfortable atmosphere. "It must be hard on you." His voice gently rang out in the somber atmosphere.

She looked up startled, and her expression betrayed a slight confusion. He maintained his calm demeanor with a warm smile and gentle sigh. "Did you love him?" His simple question brought a simple consequence.

Noa felt like she lost control of her expression. Her eyes went wide, and her face blushed wildly. Benjamin frowned slightly, another question on the tip of his tongue. Not being the type to be shy, he asked rather bluntly. "Is there a reason you won't even fight to go with him?"

She tried to smile, despite the painful question. She quickly found an object, an old and dusty table, to focus on. A fresh tear welled in her eye, and she tried to blink it away. "I can't…"

He gave her a bemused look. He caught himself before he sighed, and he was curious why she was being difficult. "You can't? …or won't?" She looked up in surprise; though, she's not focused on anything in particular. She just stared into empty space.

After a long moment, Noa turned her gaze to Benjamin. He was taken aback by the unrestrained tears rolling down her face. However, he was truly stunned as the stream of tears met the tip of a serene smile. "I…" She paused to take a reassuring breath. "…think it's a little of both."

He scratched his chin before taking a heavy breath. "Well then…" He opened _The Bible_ to no page in particular. "…care to tell me that story?" He looked to the open page on his desk. He instantly made out the parable of the prodigal son. He felt a smirk contort his face. "You know…the story of those two boys." He smiled as he leaned forward. He rested his elbows on his desk on either side of _The Bible_ and tented his hands to rest his chin on. "I might come to understand how both 'can't' and 'won't' can be true."

Noa smiled before taking a seat. She started with two very simple reasons. "I 'can't' because where they go is beyond where I can follow. I 'won't' because there is somebody else more important to him than I am…" She paused to heave a sigh. Then, Noa related what she knew of the brothers Elric to Benjamin, and knowledge of the other side of the Gate was passed to one more person.

* * *

The sky was blue as Ed rushed out ahead. He kicked a pebble as he looked for the easiest route out of town. He didn't even bother looking behind him as Al rushed up trying to plea for some sense of what was going through his brother's head. "Ed! Brother? Are you sure it's okay to just leave Noa like this?"

Ed said nothing and continued forward. Al had no choice but to follow. As the sky turned orange and dusk began to settle, they came to the edge of town. Ed chose then to stop and turn to look at Al. "You heard what I said."

The late reply only frustrated the younger Elric. "What do you mean, brother?! What you told Noa…?"

He was interrupted by an angry look and equally angry reply. "Shut up, Al!" There was a long, deafening silence. Ed was only able to watch as Al drooped his shoulders and bowed his head. He looked on the verge of tears. He turned his head away unable to watch further, not after that outburst. The gentle breeze reminded the elder why they left the Church and Noa in such a hurry. "Listen… Al, we need to find Envy."

He started to turn, so they could continue. He was interrupted by jagged words. "I… I lost _four years_ of my life, brother." There was a pause, and Ed saw stains on the ground below Al as he turned, tear stains. "…but don't…you think…I'd understand? Don't you think…I'd know how you feel? I…I want to see…Winry, too! I want…to see all…our friends."

Ed stared blankly. How was he supposed to respond to that? "Al…" He never got to find out.

"No, brother!" Al was finally showing his temper. He looked up, defiance ringing in his voice and in his face. He flung his arms out as he looked to Ed, frustration lacing his demeanor as well. "Didn't you say we had a mission to stop the Forbidden Element?!"

Ed tried to ball both his fists, but his automail was in such a state of disrepair it only moaned in protest. "I can't understand…" Al's defiant looks fades, and his frustration seemed to melt slightly. Ed continued. "I'd given up hope on returning to our world. I never thought I'd see everyone…or Winry again. That's why I focused on finding that mad Alchemist. I wanted to stop his ambitions."

Al looked Ed in wonder. "Brother…" He stumbled as he searched for the right words. Where defiance and frustration once were, confusion now reigned. He didn't know what he could say.

Ed smiled and shook his head. "People change, Al." He paused for a moment to look to the sky. He covered his eyes to view the scenery of the setting sun. "I hate to admit it…but what if Envy was right? What if he was saying that the tragedy causes people to look at themselves…and see their real potential?"

As if on cue, the sky around them turned to darkness, and a heavy wind swirled around them. Under the orange-red sky, Envy looked at the brothers Elric. The thought of crushing them in his coils came to mind, but that action wouldn't satisfy the compromise between him and the Gate. "You humans make me sick! It took you this long to decide the obvious?"

The only reply given the dragon-shaped Homunculus was a scowl. Envy replied to that with a simple, low chuckle. He bore his fangs at the brothers Elric. "I see. Then I'll be generous enough to give you a ride…so I won't ever see you again!"

* * *

"Are you sure this is safe, brother?!" Al screamed as wind rushed both him and Ed by. The clouds were thick as they rode high in the sky atop Envy's long, sinuous body. He didn't trust the treacherous snake; though, he admitted the dragon body was kind of cool and intimidating.

"We don't have much choice!" Ed yelled over the rushing air. "We don't know where the gate actually is. He hated to rely on any Homunculus, let alone Envy. His real form was a cross between Hohenheim and Dante's original bodies, and the blond looked surprisingly like the brothers Elric.

Al felt a tremor of trepidation and a grimace overcame his face at hearing his brother's admission. "Envy's our enemy!" The slithering mass underneath them rocked slightly.

Hearing the brothers argue brought a chuckle from Envy. "Come now, I'm your brother." He bore his fangs in a vain attempt to smirk. He was enjoying the trip.

Ed wore a scowl and slammed his balled, automail fist into the nearest scale. It barely bounced with the force. "How many times have you tried to kill us?!"

Envy chuckled again, and the brothers were forced to tighten their grip on the nearest scales to keep from falling. "I suppose as many times as I've told you lies and half-truths." He felt their contemptuous gazes. "Now hang on, I'm telling the truth about entering the Gate."

Neither Elric responded before they were engulfed in a familiar energy. "Hey…!" Ed explained his surprise. He looked around as the sky darkened and a massive door rose before them and slowly creaked open "Hey! How'd we get here without an alchemic reaction?"

Envy was silent for several, long moments. It frustrated Ed, and the brothers watched as the Gate opened to the void. However, seriousness permeates the air around them as the swirling energy near the vortex-like Gate started to feel like walls closing in on them. When Envy finally spoke, the brothers Elric listen. "The materials have already been paid. Hohenheim gave his life for my sins to be washed away and for you two to be sent safely back to your side."

They easily passed through the vortex with no resistance. Ed was surprised speechless at the ease, but Al felt a tugging at his heart. He was confused and dismayed. "Wait…dad…?" Though Ed saw them, Al missed the first of the roving hands of the purest black as they surrounded them.

Envy bellowed in laughter. "He paid with his life, so you two could live." He scoffed. "He wanted me to be reborn as a human. My sad life as a Homunculus was supposed to end." Anger clipped his tone.

Ed bowed his head and clenched his automail fist. "You don't sound so maniacal when compassion laces your voice." Ed has to fend off a few of the shadowy hands, and Al finally takes notice of them. He scrambles to keep several off him as well.

Envy quickly dodged around as only his sinuous body allowed. He hated those accursed hands. They desperately groped for souls. Supposedly, they helped the Gate in its purposes. "I just don't feel like hating any more. I hated Hohenheim because I thought he abandoned me. I hated you because I thought he chose you over me, his first born. My pointless existence as a Homunculus would have ended with purpose. You almost took that away from me."

Ed shook his head. He didn't know what to believe. He curled his lips, but he abandoned the sarcastic quip at the tip of his tongue. "This is repayment then?"

Envy dodged another hand and shook his head. "No. My repayment is information. That mad alchemist you were chasing is no more, consumed in his own alchemic reaction. His knowledge was spread out over the material he took with him to many of the scientist who exist in that world." He scoffed. "They are trying to save the world with the limitless potential they see in the forbidden _elements_." He made sure to emphasize the plural.

He bellowed in laughter even as he dodged more sickening hands. "There are a lot of theories currently in circulation and about to be released about nuclear physics. They want the renewable energy which fossil fuels can never provide them. You might say their visions are going to be twisted, but…" He stifled his laughter. "…everything has its price. Those mushroom clouds in your vision are an awakening!"

The brothers Elric were stunned silent at Envy's monologue. They had new clues which could have helped them search for the cause and prevent the tragedy! They might even be able to accomplish their task before the war even started! Thinking they could satisfy Envy with a compromise, they called out simultaneously. "We have to go back!"

Envy responded with a feral growl which transformed into a chuckle. Ed grew furious and let out a throaty growl. "What's that for?!" He has no time to hear a response, however, as he is forced to shield his eyes from sudden sunlight. The other end of the Gate was fast approaching, and the light was shining through one, long crack.

Envy decided to share one last tidbit of wisdom with his younger half-brothers. He knew they would never agree. He really didn't care. They were idealists, and he pictured himself a realist. He was more interested in how Noa seemed to take both sides into consideration. He dodged the ever increasing attempts by the shadowy hands to drag them into the abyss.

"Humans really are foolish." The light from the other side, the one the brothers Elric really belonged to, shined fiercely onto them. "They can easily be forced into using evil to fight back against evil. To end the suffering of millions… To wake millions to the reality of fighting to every last man, woman, and child… The war has the potential to break the back of humanity on that side of the gate. I'm tired of arguing." Envy sighed heavily.

He knew his final farewell was coming. He exited the Gate just enough for the brothers Elric to be on the side they belonged, but he was caught by those accursed hands. The brothers were flung from the draconic back. He started to change to his human form, and the blond adult smiled at the two suspended in air by the alchemic energy.

Ed stared back to Envy and the dark recesses of the Gate. "You expect us to believe you're doing this out of compassion? You expect us to believe this is what's best for us?! That's ridiculous! We could stop the needless slaughter of millions!"

Envy said nothing for a long moment as the Gate started to close. "I never liked you, and I never had compassion." He paused for a moment as the hands started to pull him in. "Maybe I lied to myself to make that a reality, though. Just know that your self-imposed mission failed the moment that alchemist used so much energy for transmutation." He heard whispers in the dark. "Your purpose is here. What do you think will happen when so much energy is released on _that_ side? It has to be consumed here!"

The gate slammed on Envy at that moment. His words snaked through their minds, and they tried to focus on anything important. Ed is convinced of one thing. There were things waiting to be done on this side. He also knew what Noa would say if he returned… He could even hear her words and see her face as they plummeted to the ground below. _"Ed! You need to be in your world! You need to be where you belong! We can get along fine here. Don't you have faith in our own destiny?"_

He closed his eyes to hope and…pray things turned out all right over there. He was brought out of his thoughts when his brother stated the obvious. "Brother…? Don't we need to slow our fall?"

Ed clapped his hands, and he felt the rush of alchemic energy. His smile broadened into a confident smirk. Al followed suit to prepare whatever alchemy he could. "Let's go, Al! Let's go see Winry and everybody!"

"The Gate has opened!" Ed and Al looked surprised as they hear an unfamiliar voice calling out from all around them. They decided to ignore it in favor of surviving. They had no idea why Envy had to take them so high, but they knew they needed alchemy to survive.

* * *

Envy saw through the Gate. It closed, but it let him watch Ed and Al descend through the clouds. It took a few seconds, but he lost sight of them. He turned to see his parents, Hohenheim and Dante. Though souls, they were represented by the last bodies they took. He sighed before looking up with his toothy grin. "Well, all right, they're back. Now they just have to survive long enough." He chuckled before looking over his shoulder. "The Shadows don't forgive _that_ easily!"

* * *

If you can't tell, I don't like simple solutions. Coincidences are fine as long as they don't interfere with a good story. Anyway, I fell in love with Calvin and Cybil as soon as I made them. I might have to knock their heads around if I were their father, but it'd still be fun.

In case nobody has noticed, I put the general completion rate of the next chapter in my profile. Now, updates on this story are going to be slower than my others because, well, I like _Full Metal Alchemist_ more. Backwards? I think not! Anyway, this chapter was slowed by not writer's block but writing two _Naruto_ fictions at the same time (one a sequel to one I ended). You can also blame it on my Discrete Math course which started a few weeks ago and will probably be over before my next release. Now that Ed and Al are out of 'our' world, I can start the real party!

I hadn't noticed my permission for anonymous reviews was off, so I'm trying a little experiment. I'm turning permissions on. I'll also tell you this. If you want to leave a review but don't want me responding to it in my review section at the top of each story, just tell me so at the end of the review. I promise only to respond through this sites private message system (if you can call it that...). I just feel some questions in reviews are best answered to all readers.

I appreciate comments and constructive criticism, but outright flames will be ignored.

Story Word Count: 10,075  
Story Page Count: 20


	4. Chapter 3: Eyes of Evil

S J Smith: Doesn't she, though? They really didn't do enough with Riza in the anime, but the manga uses her quite well. Anyway, thanks for pointing out that mistake. I never even noticed I made it... Indeed, Mustang is still wearing his eyepatch. As for Benjamin, I did a little research years ago when I originally started writing this fiction (when it was horrible and flowed terribly) on proper German names. As Germany is the birth place of Protestantism, I imagine that makes little difference... I'm not Catholic either (born and raised Lutheran but consider myself non-Denominational). Now Envy...

-pixidust-princess-: Thank you for the bode of confidence. I reserve judgment for the readers!

Skadi Hime: People might not believe this, but a kindly comment is one way to leave constructive criticism. It tells the author there are people who want to and, most importantly, _enjoy_ reading his work (his because I'm a he). I also hope the "...don't have to reply" didn't mean you don't want me to...'cause then I have to apologize!

MindandSpirit: I'm working on this work alone (and, no, that is not a request for beta readers). If you notice I'm making the same type of typo, it is beneficial to me to see where I am making them. Thanks, and I hope you continue to enjoy the story.

Legendary Chimera: I knew somebody would get the liquor reference... To further questions, he is not a drunkard. Jeremiah Twain is there mainly to help me with character perspective. I'm willing to admit his type is the most difficult for me to write, deep and introspective.

D. M. Evans: I never even noticed... I'll work on catching those annoying, little typos...

* * *

**Eyes of Evil  
**

The day after Ken's visit to her shop in Rush Valley, Winry along with Bunny, Calvin, and Cybil boarded a train for central. It wasn't a long trip, and they were collecting their light baggage when they heard a squeal. Winry was expecting it. She called ahead, and Sheska was there to greet them. She also agreed to be a guide, of sorts, as nobody in the small group quite knew where Central Hall was.

Winry cheerily exchanged small talk with Sheska, much to Bunny's delight. A distracted Winry meant she had more time to enjoy the sights rather than stop the incessant bickering of the twins. They, however, were busy staring in awe of the hustle and bustle of the city. They didn't even notice when their own stomachs grumbled, but nobody was stopping for dinner until after meeting with Mustang.

The trip to Central Hall was short. With Sheska's influence, they were able to purchase tickets stopping at the station nearest the government offices. It was still a fifteen minute walk, but Warrant Officer Benjamin Daniels was waiting with a smile. When he saw Winry, an all too familiar smile flashed across his face. Unlike Sheska, Winry was a civilian and not within his chain-of-command; though, it rarely ever stopped him. "Ah, this must be the lovely lady dear Sheska was talking about. Would you care to…?"

He was stopped by the menacing look on her face and aura in the air. She was holding a very large, very threatening wrench which she seemed to have pulled out of the ether. Only a few knew her real secret. She wore a surprisingly well concealed sheath for it. "Not another word, buster." Calvin and Cybil froze, but Bunny wore an amused smirk.

Benjamin raised a brow to the display. _"Usually I'm quite the charmer…"_ He resisted the urge to run a hand through his hair, as if to pay homage to one of his lady-killer idols. _"With these devilish good looks, she should be…"_ He had a flash of recognition, but he decided to play it off coolly. "Ah, not into the military type? I understand. Anyway my lovelies, and that boy over there, Mustang's waiting inside, and he's got a busy schedule ahead of him. Hurry, hurry, hurry." He smiled as he marched through the doors to lead everybody in.

Calvin noticed the slight and gave the man a dirty glower. _"What's this _older_ man doing flirting with my sister and master? Oh, I oughta!"_ It was an interesting contradiction, if anybody could hear his thoughts. He thought Winry quite young and a stunner, and Benjamin wasn't much older than her.

As twins have the tendency to do, Cybil seemed to sense her brothers thoughts and rolled her eyes. She hit him upside the head and led him into the building. Okay, she grabbed him by his arm and dragged him in. Still, she felt like alleviating his fears. "Some nerve he has! What's he think? He has something our Winry wants?!" She let out a frustrated half-sigh, half-moan. "He's not fooling anyone, the pervert."

His sister's words sealed the deal for him. They stopped, looked at each other, and nodded. In unison, they bound themselves into a contract. "If that jerk gets near our master, we kick'im in the shins!" Up ahead, Benjamin sneezed.

Winry, on the other hand, turned around. She had a similar menacing aura to when Benjamin tried to hit on her, but she did not threateningly hold her wrench. The twins were safe from fury, but she still looked mean. "What did you call me? What did I say about the 'master' stuff?!" When they cowered in fear, she let them off the hook. She turned in a huff to answer their mumblings. "Don't let me catch you saying that again."

Benjamin whistled and whispered to no one in particular. "Wow, a real fire under that one." He chuckled. _"She's not really my type, anyway. She can be real scary…"_ He was contemplating a few things as they walked along, and he didn't notice when somebody snuck up behind him.

"She does…" Benjamin nearly jumped as Bunny spoke. "…and I wouldn't recommend being some dumb moth." She was pointed in her speech. She very much meant insult.

He let out a nervous laugh; though, he didn't know why. "Just trying to be friendly." He noticed the light, metallic thud as she walked across the floor. _"She hides it well, but both her legs are automail. I wonder if Winry's her mechanic."_ He paused at the doors leading to a cafeteria where Mustang and his long-time allies were.

He politely opened the door for the group, and he easily noticed the cold glower he was receiving from Winry, Calvin, and Cybil. _"Oh, tough crowd, tough crowd."_ When they were out of eyesight, he scratched his cheek and closed the door. "I wonder if it's a country thing… The city girls seem to love being doted on." With a shrug, he walked away. "Oh well, never bite off more than you can chew. That's what _I_ always say." He whistled a happy tune as he walked down the hall to his duties.

* * *

He placed his left hand against his forehead as he came into consciousness. He wasn't one hundred percent sure why, but his right arm…didn't feel right. It also didn't seem to want to move. He let out an agonized moan feeling aches and pains all over his body. _"What I do? Get in a match with a pro wrestler and lose?"_ The thought was oddly funny to him.

He heard a quiet click and looked over to the door. He shunned from the light as it offended his eyes with its brightness. "Ah, you're awake." He heard a friendly, female voice and anther quiet click. Instinctively, he knew the door closed, and he looked up to see who owned the voice. He had a vague sense of recognition but couldn't find a name.

The girl frowned. It was actually closer to a pout, but he didn't want to nitpick. "You're usually so energetic and spring right back into things." She smiled sweetly. "It's been a while, Ed." He felt another spark of recognition, but confusion laced his eyes. He was still adjusting to the light level, but she picked up on his unusual hesitation. "Ed… Do you know who I am?"

He looked at her again. _"She's looking at me, so I guess that means I'm Ed."_ He almost shook his head, but he decided to take another look. The girl, no woman, was pretty. She had tanned skin, and light, hazel eyes. She had one feature that really stood out. Her auburn hair was dark except for her bangs where they were almost pale enough to be pinkish.

He barely had a dim recognition of her, but something inside him told him to be careful around her. It wasn't danger he was alerted of. It seemed more like that warning one gets around a porcelain figure. He carefully shook his head, not sure of her reaction. "Sorry…" His voice was raspy and weak, and he suddenly recognized a desire for water.

When she heard him, her frown deepened out of the pout. The pout was to play with him, tease him a bit. However, the tumble he took seemed to be giving him amnesia. When he grasped for his throat, she held out something she brought with her. "Here, drink this." He eagerly took the ladle and drank. "You've been out for almost a day."

He almost choked on the water and started coughing because of it. She carefully brought the ladle away from his lips and gingerly slapped his back to help clear his lungs. After a moment, he reached for the ladle again and started sipping more carefully. She smiled. _"He was just a little surprised. I would be too if I got knocked around like that and only lay unconscious for a day."_

His throat felt better after only a few more sips, and he placed the ladle on the chest beside the bed. "Thanks miss…" He paused tentatively for a moment but shook off any doubts. She knew who he was, and he needed to find out. "I don't know how I got here, but you seem to know me."

She smiled brightly and answered almost automatically. "Of course, silly! How could I forget the father of my child?" His expression was priceless. She said it so exuberantly and straight faced that he had no reason to doubt it. His face was a myriad of expressions, not the least of which was outright fright. Then, she snorted in a vain attempt to keep laughter at bay.

His face became almost expressionless as he stared at her incredulously. He tried to be angry. He tried to find the rage to yell at her, but something kept pushing it away. He finally let out a sigh to betray his frustration. "You think its okay to toy with my feelings like that?"

She wiped a tear from her eye as she forced the mirth down; it helped that she did feel a bit guilty. She had to take a deep, calming breath before she was able to talk. "I'm sorry, Ed." She smiled merrily at him. "My name is Rose, and we've been friends for a really long time. To tell the truth, you turned me down." She somehow maintained the joviality in both expression and tone.

He took a heavy breath. At least they were getting somewhere. He had a name for her. He didn't know exactly why, but he was relieved they weren't intimately involved. Something about her felt like a very close friend and not more. He wasn't about to say so, though. He decided he wanted answers…and his health. "Rose, you said you've known me for a long time." She nodded. "How long, exactly?"

She thought about that for a moment. "Well, you and your brother first came to Lior, oh, about eight years ago." He gawked at her wondering how he could forget something like that, but she had more to say. "I haven't seen you in two and a half years, though." She clapped her hands together. "Oh, that reminds me!" She smiled brightly. "That's when I confessed to you!"

He let out an exasperated sigh. He was close to yelling at her to focus, but he kept feeling that nagging in the back of his head ordering him not to. He shook his head. "Well, obviously you have a child now, so you moved on from me. Can we…?" He was interrupted from his thoughts and questions when she shook her head.

Her smile dimmed slightly. "I don't know who his father was. I was…" She paused to swallow the lump in her throat. "…raped during the war." He wore an openly apologetic face, but she shushed him with a finger to his lips. He blushed deeply, and she warmed slightly for it. "I'd rather love my child than hate the circumstances, so don't pity me." She was stern but caring, which surprised him immensely.

He pushed her hand down from his face and looked at her with angry eyes. She knew where the anger was directed. "That… That…" He struggled to find the words to describe the man, or men he thought disgusted, which did such a terrible thing to her. He was stunned by the expression she wore.

Her expression was one of serenity. "Ed…" She paused to let his thoughts focus on her. "I wouldn't want you seeking justice even if the man were still alive. He lost his life in that horrible war. I tried hating him for a long time, but…" She breathed heavily. "I don't know if it's because I'm too weak or because I'm strong, but I choose not to hate. I don't want my child raised around that feeling."

He practically yelled in frustration. He didn't understand anything that was going on! She was chiding him for being angry!? _"What's worse, the idiot's dead!"_ Forgetting they had gotten off track by an ignorant question, he tried to raise both hands to rub furiously at his hair when he was again reminded of that odd feeling. His right arm didn't move, so he looked down at it. His face became aghast. "My… My arm…!" He barely gasped out.

She looked at him curiously. "Oh, you mean your automail." She pointed to a corner of the room where two, vaguely limb-like, metallic structures rested. He looked where his left leg should have been as she continued. "They were so badly damaged that there was nothing anybody in Lior could do for them." She paused for a moment. "I tried getting a hold of your mechanic, but I didn't get an answer from the shop in Rush Valley…"

His head hurt, and he felt like he was swimming underwater. He didn't recognize the feeling, and he didn't like it. She grew concerned when she saw him clutch his side with his good arm and bend over. "Ed, are you okay?!" She gently grasped his shoulders. He was shaking and sweating profusely. "I'll be right back with a cold cloth!"

Rose rushed out of the room leaving Ed by himself for a few moments. In her haste, she neglected to close the door. Over the sound of water running from a faucet, he heard her rambling speech. "Oh, where's Al? I was expecting to see him nearby, but he wasn't anywhere in sight… Those brothers might be able to help themselves…" There was a long pause. "I've missed him so much… This tugging at my heart…" She paused again. "Am I trying to make him fall for me again?" There was…guilt in her voice.

The sound of running water stopped, and rushed feet announced her approach. She quickly strode to his side and placed the cool, damp towel to his forehead. She noticed he calmed considerably since she left the room. He looked up to her but decided not to mention what he heard. "That word, automail, sounded familiar… I think it tugged at a memory."

She nodded. She hoped that was a start. "Oh, I'm sure you want to hear more about yourself." She remembered his egotism, but he surprised her by gently shaking his head. "Too bad, I'll tell you anyway!" He smiled gently and lay back down. "You have a brother named Al. He's a gentle, sweet boy; completely unlike you." She giggled when he responded to the jab with a disapproving grunt.

She pulled a nearby chair up to sit next to the bed. "You grew up in a town called Risembool…" She gave an uncharacteristically wicked smile. "…but I don't know enough about your childhood to tell you that. Rather, I'll tell you about how you saved this little township we call Lior."

She told him about his heroics, and he was stunned by what he accomplished. For the better part of an hour, she regaled him with tales of his exploits in her town proper. When a strong, feminine voice called from downstairs that dinner was ready, she excused herself to get their meals. She gently closed the door behind her, and he looked out the window wondering what happened to cause him amnesia.

* * *

Winry marched across the room straight to Mustang and Riza. Mustang smiled brightly as he greeted her, but Riza wore her usual stoic expression. "Well, it's certainly been a while Ms. Rockbell. How've you be-…" His head snapped to the side as a large, red handprint appeared on his cheek. He wasn't expecting the young automail mechanic to slap him, and he had no idea what he did to deserve it.

Riza rubbed the bridge of her nose wondering if there was a misunderstanding which Winry quickly confirmed. "What do you think you're doing sending some old cheapskate out to my shop to deliver a message in order to cover part of his tab?!" Havoc, Breda, Falman, and Fuery took a step back from her righteous fury.

Mustang was about to reply, but he was surprised once again. Sheska nervously poked in. "Um, I told Colonel Troy to deliver a message to you, but…" She grimaced when Winry sent an icy glower her way. "…he shouldn't have used the information to barter. I promise you'll be compensated for your time." She quickly bowed in apology.

Winry let out an exasperated sigh. "Oh, it's not your fault Sheska." She glared at Mustang. "I'm sorry, Roy." She pointedly used his first name. "Now, what do I hear about your being reinstated?" She turned when she heard the door open, and the aroma of food brought forth a growl from her stomach. She looked down slightly red. "Forget it, let's eat first."

The Mustang Seven sat to eat with Winry and her small group. For the most part, Winry's assistant and apprentices were left out of the small talk. They were fine with that, and they couldn't keep the smiles from their faces as they watched her talk and laugh in the company. She was especially close to Riza and Sheska as if they were older sisters.

From the opening scene, Calvin and Cybil were expecting their master to be cold towards Mustang. Instead, they exchanged some of the most humorous tales of somebody named Edward Elric and his brother Alphonse that they had ever heard. The good mood was infectious enough to bring a true smile to Mustang's face, something Riza sadly noted had been absent for a long while. At least it was absent in public…since that night in a small Northern village of Gunter.

The doors opened again, and silence reigned as the Mustang Seven all stood at attention. Winry was confused and looked at who just walked in. The man looked vaguely familiar. She recalled Warrant Officer Benjamin Daniels with disdain, but he wore the rank Lieutenant General. Though, he did wear a nametag displaying 'Daniels' for the world to see.

Mustang addressed the man with requisite dignity. He saluted before addressing him. "Consulate Member Lieutenant General Jack Daniels, to what do we owe the honor?" He dropped his salute when he ended the formal address.

The Lieutenant General smiled warmly. "The Amestris Consulate has reached a consensus." He carefully looked over Winry, Bunny, and the twins. His eyes were different from his brother's, but they held the same kindness and gentleness. He nodded in greeting. "If these are guests of yours, they are welcome to attend as well." He turned back to Mustang. "We shall be making a public address after you hear the decision, so follow me."

As he commanded, the Mustang Seven obeyed. They were proud Amestris soldiers, and they followed their duty to their country. Riza gently motioned for Winry and her group to follow, and they did. Winry walked with determination. Bunny put her hands behind her head and fell into a lazy gait. The twins nervously followed behind.

* * *

They arrived in the Consulate Chambers which looked a lot like a courtroom, and Lieutenant General Jack Daniels took his seat among his peers. They looked like judges looking down on the accused from their high seats. The twins fidgeted nervously as they looked around the empty room. Bunny wore an amused smirk.

Jeremiah Twain stood to address them first. "Roy Mustang, formally Brigadier General of the Amestris armed forces and State Alchemist also known as the Flame Alchemist; you know why you are here?" Mustang nodded. "We have discussed our options at length. You are a valuable and prized soldier and Alchemist among our ranks; we are willing to admit this much."

Jeremiah remained standing, but he nodded to Julian Rivers to continue. He didn't stand, but he managed to take a commanding presence. "You have crimes to answer for. During the war with Ishval, you took the lives of civilians…" He indicated Winry. "…including that girl's parents." He noticed Mustang tense. _"Good, he feels guilty. I don't want a monster like King Bradley again."_

He nodded to Jeremiah to continue. He had also paid attention to Winry's reaction. She was sad, but there was something else he caught, understanding and forgiveness. "Included in that war are acts of insubordination. With the recent peace effort, some acts we didn't know about before have come to light. While you killed the doctors Rockbell, you assisted Ishvalan refugees to escape, despite orders. How do you explain these contradictions?"

Mustang gritted his teeth before turning his head to the Consulate. _"Why wasn't this brought up before?! I thought the trial part was over! Did they do this just to get Winry's reaction?!"_ He was fuming, but he needed to answer their question, more if needed. "The unfortunate incident with the doctors Rockbell happened while I was under supervision. I had no way to cover up any insubordination. When I helped those refugees, only my inner circle was present."

Jeremiah nodded and was about to reply, but Mustang wasn't done. He continued unabated. "The incident with the Rockbells haunted me until this…" He indicated Winry. "…kind, young lady showed me forgiveness I didn't deserve. Maes…" He barely stopped himself from choking up. "…saved me from a cowardly act of suicide. He helped me come up with the idea of saving as many Ishvalans as I could for a future alliance." He stood firm and proud.

Once again, Jeremiah was interrupted. "You can't accuse Mustang of those bad things!" Winry cried in his defense, bringing wide eyes to rest on her from each member of the Consulate. Daniels was impressed into giving his knowing smirk. "He was ordered to do something terrible, and…and despite his decision to follow orders…" She paused to choke back tears. "I understand. It was hard for him…on him." She stamped her foot. "Why bring this up now? Are you trying to find somebody upset with him?!"

Jeremiah was taken aback for only a moment. He looked at the faces of the Consulate, and they nodded to him in reply to his silent question. "To answer you Ms. Rockbell, we had no intention of doing such a thing. It is fortunate you are here, however, as it provides valuable insight. You see; we cannot allow another monster like King Bradley to…grace our presence again."

Gwyneth Riggs smiled gently as her motherly voice almost sang out. "My husband died in the Ishval War." The Mustang Seven and Winry and her group looked at her with questioning stares. They didn't know what she was getting at. "He and his unit were supposedly killed by one called Scar; a man called a monster." Her expression was sullen, but she recognized the rather confused expressions from those before the Consulate.

She looked directly at Winry. "I am proud to find somebody else willing to let bygones be bygones." Winry opened her mouth to speak, but Gwyneth held her hand up, so she could continue. "If Scar was a monster, he was a monster created by _former_ Fuhrer King Bradley." Her gaze turned to Mustang.

He was chuckling, and he barely contained laughter. He watched the knowing expression wash over her face even as the gears in his head continued to turn. "I see, so that's your game." All eyes were on him. "You wanted to _test_ me, so you waited for me to bring somebody with a reason to hate me." He slid his hand through his hair in a chauvinistic display of his own worth and cunning.

He took two steps forward and lowered his chin to show his determination. "You predicted my moves well, but I'm afraid it's checkmate for me!" When no member of the Consulate flinched, he knew he won. "This was all a test. Hughes was a friend, and I knew him too well. I played your game, but now it's over." He stood firmly to watch. He was willing to wait.

He didn't wait long. Daniels clapped his hands three times in mock applause. "I should have known we couldn't pull the wool over your eyes, not for long at least." He was practically grinning. "To tell the truth, we wanted to be _sure_ you genuinely had the best interests of the people in mind, Brigadier General Roy Mustang." He let his implication hang in the air.

Winry, Bunny, Calvin, and Cybil practically gasped. Mustang wore his confident grin and crossed his arms over his chest. Riza managed to _not_ leap for joy and maintained her expressionless mask. Sheska's knees finally gave out, and she nearly collapsed in exhaustion. The men were patting each other on theirs backs and shaking hands in general reverie.

Alan Kingston stood after a moment of watching the display which seemed to be a signal for Jeremiah to takes his seat. "You can consider your current standing to be a probation period." The general joy died instantly, but Mustang and Riza remained as steadfast as ever. "We shall observe you until we feel we fully trust you. Our faith in Maes has given you this opportunity, and we were willing to take a look at the evidence before coming to our decision."

Mustang nodded and bowed his head respectfully. "I understand, members of the Amestris Consulate." They presented him the perfect opportunity. With the resources and backing of the military and State Alchemist Corp, he was finally able to pursue research on how to get the boys back.

William Pond rapped his fingers against his stomach. "It's still gonna be difficult, but'cha just leave the hard stuff ta us." He chuckled and straightened in his seat. "We 'ear there's still some loyalists in Central. We gotta smoke 'em out 'fore ya can move about freely." He nodded as he rested his chin in his hand in thought.

The Mustang seven shared similar thoughts. They were able to track General Kelly Westford's major accomplices thanks to Sheska and the spy network she inherited from Maes Hughes. If the Amestris Consulate knew enough to claim they could draw even a small number of them into the open, the Dante-idealists were probably far more numerous than previous calculations.

Riza bit her inner lip to maintain her stoic expression. _"This is not good…"_ She knew it was an understatement, but she also knew how true it was. Unfortunately, the next move belonged to General Westford. She was glad to have some good news come out of the whole ordeal.

* * *

As he stirred from a state of unconsciousness, he heard a voice call out. "Oh, he's awake. Get the elder!" He felt like he could hear his heart pounding in his ears, and the loud voice only made his headache worse. He groaned and covered his eyes and forehead with his hand. "You took quite the tumble. You feeling all right?"

He might have rolled his eyes if they were open. _That_ was a dumb question. "No…" He answered anyway as he separated his fingers to let cracks of light in. He wanted to see, so he needed to adjust to the light. "Where am I?"

An older voice answered him as feet shuffled around the new presence. "You, young Alchemist, are in an Ishvalan refugee camp." The man was obviously the elder called for only a moment ago, and he watched the 'young Alchemist' for any reaction. His body language showed neither fear nor hatred. He also had a vague recognition of the blond laying on the makeshift bed.

The blond shook his head to try clearing it of the cobwebs. His entire body ached, but he needed to think. "I'm with the people of Ishval, huh?" He didn't need an answer, so he continued. "It's been a while." He opened his eyes to see the blurry images of those around him. He could only make out their dark skin, but he did recognize the formal robes of the elder. "Pleased to meet you; I'm Alphonse Elric, but you can call me Al."

The elder chuckled. "It has indeed been a while Alphonse Elric, brother of Full Metal Edward Elric." Al's eyes went wide, and he sat up staring inquisitively to important man. The elder read his question. "We seem to bump into each other at the most opportune times. We have just been invited to Central for some big announcement." He paused for a moment. "Though, I seem to recall hearing that you went missing several months ago."

Al nodded; his vision finally settling. "You heard about Central coming under attack?" The elder nodded, so Al continued. "Well, I went to help. I somehow managed across my brother, and we stopped an invasion from another world." Those around the elder gaped openly, obviously believing his story a blatant lie. "I've been in that world since that day."

The elder knew better than to accuse one of the brothers Elric of lying. The younger was especially truthful. The elder lied only to be helpful…in his own way. He nodded and looked at the handful of his people present in the tent. "We can trust this Alchemist. He and his brother have helped out people countless times, and we owe them a debt of gratitude. Though Ishvalla forbids us use of their arts, she does not forbid us acknowledging them as friends and allies."

A middle-aged man scoffed. "Elder, you can't expect us to trust those treasonous Amestrians!" He threw his arm wide in open defiance. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Their _Fuhrer _declared open war on us! Their _State Alchemists_ burned our country to the ground!"

The elder turned a disapproving and disappointed eye to the grown man. He opened his mouth to speak, but a teenager a little older than Al stepped up with an annoyed look. "Listen here, mister! If it weren't for Ed and Al, we'd still be on the run from the military. We'd still be hiding in whatever dump we could find." He turned to Al with a bright smile. "I remember Al from when he was still a walking armor."

Al's eyes lit up in recognition, but, before he could say anything, the elder clapped his hands. "That's enough. Ishvalla did not teach us to _hate_. Now, we must let the young man get some rest. He has been through a lot." The Ishvalan people filed out upon their elder's orders. The young boy was the last to leave before the elder giving one, last smile.

The elder turned to close the flaps to the tent, leaving him and Al alone. He sat up a bit confused and looked to the important man. "Is there something wrong?" He couldn't help but feel worried.

The elder shook his head. "Nothing at all, young Alchemist." A wide, bright smile decorated his face, and he closed his eyes in joy. "It must be the will of Ishvalla that we meet again. Tell me, where is your brother?"

Al's eyes went wide. "You mean he wasn't with me?!" He was obviously frantic, but the elder could only sadly shake his head. His smile was replaced with a frown. Al looked down in fright. "I remember exiting the Gate with him, and we were falling through cloud cover…"

The elder blinked in surprise as Al put cupped his chin in his hand to think. He decided to speak up while the preteen thought. "You fell from so high in the sky?" He only received a nod as an answer. "I'm surprised you survived. Even for skilled Alchemists, that must have been a difficult task."

Al nodded. "Yeah, brother came up with the idea." He looked up and leaned back on his arms. "We gathered the alchemic energy until we were surrounded by the clouds…" As his story started, the elder listened.

* * *

Ed and Al were falling through a thick cover of clouds, and the elder brother came up with a crazy idea. They were trying to slow their decent using air pressure which meant keeping the alchemic reaction close to their bodies. It was a dangerous idea at best, but it wasn't showing any signs of slowing them down.

"Hey Al!" The elder Elric bellowed over the rushing air. "Let's try this again. Use the clouds!" Al gave his brother an incredulous look. "Listen, clouds are made of water vapor. It's still has substance. We just need to catch some water crystals and keep gathering them to us."

He still couldn't believe his elder brother's words. "How is that going to help us?" He knew they had zero chance to make parachutes, or even one. They didn't have _enough_ let alone the _right_ materials for that. They would still have more than enough velocity that sudden impact would kill them.

"Think about it, Al." The elder still yelled over the buffeting winds. He clapped his hands together and threw his arms out to start…catching cloud. "All we need to do is stop 'sudden impact' to survive. It's simple enough to create a _pool_ of water. We make water contained by slush and ice. We can do this!"

Al wore a completely disbelieving face. "There's no way that plan will work! We need miles of interconnected cloud!" He knew physics as well as any Alchemist. He also knew his brother's crazy plans worked more often than not.

Ed's lips curled into his infamous smirk. "Then I take it you didn't see?" The clouds around them darkened. Was his plan really working? The air grew damp, and they were soon soaked. "When we were above the cloud cover, I saw the developing system. We're just helping nature along by gathering all those clouds together to splash down wherever we land." His smirk broadened.

Al blinked. "You can't be serious, brother…" He looked at the twinkle in Ed's eyes. "You are…" He sighed heavily and decided to join in on his brother's crazy plan. He clapped his hands together and started gathering crystallized water. He was surprised it was a lot easier than he thought it would be. _"They don't call him a genius for nothing…"_

Below them, the 'container' formed from a giant sheet of ice. Of course, it was shaped like a giant bowl…with a few of Ed's 'decorations' making it look outright creepy. The ice was filled with slush and water to soften their fall. They also made sure to never stay more than a couple of feet above the water's surface. If they were too high, crashing through a plane of water was the same as a crust of earth, painful and deadly.

* * *

Al rubbed the back of his neck as he finished his story. "To tell the truth, I don't even remember crash landing. I remember seeing the ground coming up fast, and then I woke up here."

The elder managed to keep from gaping. He'd openly admit he was absolutely flabbergasted. The boys survived probably the most terrifying experiences he had ever heard witness of, and he just heard yet another feat to add to their already impressive list. He slowly sat at the tent entrance. "It looks like those years away haven't slowed Full Metal down one bit."

Al smiled. He was sure his brother would love the compliment. He loved stroking his ego. Al stifled a chuckle at that thought. He was about to shift to get out of bed, but the elder held up a hand to stop him. "No, you rest for now. I'll have somebody bring you some food later. I think we'll leave around noon tomorrow. We have plenty of time to arrive in Central."

The elder stood and opened the flaps to leave. Al lay down and turned his head to the elder. "Thank you." He was happy to be back home.

The elder smiled and looked over his shoulder to the youth. "I am happy to be of assistance." With that, he left to allow the preteen to rest and prepare for the journey ahead.

* * *

Rose left him a tray of food before excusing herself to take care of her child. Ed politely nodded his understanding. He wasn't going to keep her from attending to the child she so obviously loved. It was hours later when she returned. He was sitting up and staring out the window. He found it too difficult to move closer in his current condition. She pulled a chair close to the bed and just gazed at him.

He noticed her attention and turned to her. She smiled and lightly blushed before tilting her head to deliver her news. "Well, I couldn't get in touch with your automail mechanic. She's not in Rush Valley or Risembool, but I have a guess as to where she _might_ be." She was hesitant to tell him, not quite sure how he might respond. A strong memory-jarring name might be good.

He looked to his useless pile of scrap limbs. The metal was little more than scrap lying in that bin. He looked at his stumps and shook his head. There was no point getting depressed. "If you know where he might be, why not just tell me? I'm sure he'd understand if I was in some terrible accident…" He paused at the thought of a wrench impacting his head. Why was he thinking of that?

She giggled which brought him out of his thoughts. "Your mechanic is a young lady who goes by the name Winry Rockbell, and she _might_ be in Central." She saw something flash in his eyes, so she continued. "There was a radio broadcast announcing something important, and rumor is it involves the Flame Alchemist, former Brigadier General Roy Mustang." She hoped she was doing the right thing, but she remembered he saved her from traumatic depression long ago.

He grasped his head. Something was trying to wriggle itself free; at least he felt like some living entity was fighting its way out of some prison in his mind. He shook his head as the pain slowly receded and turned to her. His mind was made up and resolve firm. "Let's go to Central and see this mechanic of mine!"

* * *

It was a big day in Central, and Amestris was in a jovial mood. It was a day to celebrate. Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, finally returned to them. The people felt overjoyed to have him back. He was, of course, charismatic, but he also gave people a sense of hope and security.

For all the joviality, there were a miserably group gathered around General Kelly Westford. He was not enjoying himself _one bit_ at what he saw as utter nonsense. They were _inviting_ the treasonous Mustang back among their midst. The joke of a trial he heard about but had _no_ inside information on only served to infuriate him.

There were always two sides to every story. There was rarely a distinct line between good and evil. Westford accepted it as his own, dark truth, and he precariously walked that thin line, in his view. He wanted to bring utopia to the world, and Dante was the only one to ever have an inkling of an idea towards that vision. If it meant sacrificing a few million people, it would be so.

Fuhrer King Bradley proved it. The people of Amestris were corrupt. Alchemist or Ishvalan, they were prone to hatred and easy to incite to war. Dante and her Seven Sins were beaten only because they misjudged their strongest weapon, Full Metal Alchemist Edward Elric.

He opened his poor eyes and stared through his thick lenses. In his room were his most loyal subordinates. They were hidden in the shadows, but he clearly counted their silhouettes. He smirked at the irony of it all, seven. The number seven seemed important to Amestris and intricately intertwined in the fabric of its fate.

The Amestris Consulate was nicknamed the Council of Seven. Roy Mustang and his inner circle were collectively called the Mustang Seven. Dante had her Seven Sins. General Kelly Westford held his Seven Judges in high regard. They were his shadows, working where he could not. After considering the seeming coincidences, he leaned forward to address the leader. "Adjudicator Kingdom, have all the preparations been made?"

A single eye fell on Westford. Kingdom, as he was called, held a gaze absent of emotion. He was easily the largest figure in the room, and several sharp points jutted out from his body. The sound of leather stretching was heard as he tightened his hands into fists. When he spoke, his jaw line was by what appeared to be a helmet. "I have prepared the Seven Judges as best I can, and we are ready to bring judgment upon Amestris."

The silhouette furthest from Kingdom sniggered before sharply arching backwards and letting out a raucous laughter. Westford and the remaining Seven Judges turned their eyes to the maniacal laughter. After a moment, he straightened back up to look between Westford and Kingdom. "Come on boss, when we gonna kill that annoying Council of Seven?" His voice dripped venom.

Westford pushed his glasses up to settle them better on the bridge of his nose. He did _not_ enjoy interruptions. "Need I remind you, Arbitrator Scythe, that you are not to speak out of turn? _Kingdom_ is the leader here." He paused to tilt his head menacingly. "I don't care _how_ powerful you think you are."

Scythe held up his hands defensively, revealing just how slim and lanky he was in the dimly lit room. "Whoa, no need to be so hostile, boss. Just curious when we're gonna kill those hindrances." He sounded cheerful and easily ignored the glares from the rest of the Seven Judges. He was more annoyed that Kingdom was ignoring him.

Westford was about to scold Scythe again when Kingdom tossed him his namesake. Though his vision was fast fading with his age, he still recognized the outline, and his eyes went wide. Before he could say anything, the one titled Adjudicator spoke. "If you are so eager for bloodshed, then you will be given the first kill when the second phase initiates."

Scythe stepped into the light with his weapon rested against his shoulder. He was giddy as a delinquent schoolboy when the bell rang for lunch. His smirk was twisted and bloodthirsty, and he didn't bother hiding the wicked look in his bloodshot eyes. He was dressed head to toe in black leather, and any visible skin was darkened from harsh exposure to desert sun. His hair looked like it had never been combed, and it swayed as he clapped his leather-clad hands. "This is so sweet!"

Kingdom pulled out a pike and steel knuckle with three long claws. Scythe groaned as the leader of the Seven Judges tossed the new weapons to two, other judges. His ever calm voice relayed his command. "Arbitrator Lance, Arbitrator Steel Claw, you are to assist Arbitrator Scythe in his mission." He turned to Westford. "Who is our first target?"

The General leaned back in his chair as he considered it and rocked lightly. He had been thinking on it for a long while. His biggest threats were Consulate members with assumed successors. Gwyneth Riggs and Julian Rivers were past their prime but far to wise to take lightly. Gwyneth's assumed successor was her favorite student, ironically an Ashcraft named Gwendolyn. Julian's assumed successor was his grandson, Harvard Rivers.

His face darkened. William Pond and Alan Kingston were also out. They didn't have assumed successors to make life difficult. They had huge corporations behind them making them too valuable to lose until the hostile takeover was complete. He still had hopes of talking Lieutenant General Jack Daniels to his side. He only had two targets left. Lloyd Furr was the bigger threat because he was an experience Alchemist.

Making his decision, he tented his hands as he leaned forward and rested his chin at the peak. "Jeremiah Twain is the most vulnerable and least valuable. He can be killed without forcing us to kill another so soon…" He paused to emphasize his point. "…which would only raise suspicions. Adjudicator Kingdom, you can decide when to go after the next target, Lloyd Furr."

Kingdom bowed and turned to the three assigned the task. "Arbitrators, you have your assignment." He watched the smirk Scythe wore broaden. "You are dismissed." The three seemed to fade into the shadows and completely out of view. It was a trick each of the Seven Judges knew, a gift from the Gate. He led his remaining subordinates out of Westford's office.

He knew it wasn't necessary to leave first or stay hidden in the shadows. Their boss was tired and was likely going to take the hidden exit to depart to his house and get much needed rest. When he stopped, his subordinates followed suite. He turned to face them with a broadsword, labrys, and flail utilizing a blade instead of a pommel. "Arbitrator Blade, Arbitrator Axe, Arbitrator Bludgeon, you are to ensure the plan doesn't fail.

The remaining members of the Seven Judges took the weapons of their namesakes. They politely bowed before disappearing into the shadows. After a moment, Kingdom recited his oath to himself. "Trials and Tribulations are the Fires. My Body is the Forge. My Sword is my Hammer. May the Soul that I strike out be sharp enough to pierce the darkness." That out of the way, he departed in a similar method to the others, and the offices of General Kelly Westford were left devoid of life.

* * *

Al arrived with the Ishvallan refugees about an hour before some important information was supposed to be revealed. They had traveled nearly all day to make it in time for the evening's festivities. Whatever was going to happen, it was big. From the soldiers and preparations, it was bigger than Sailam Bradley's last birthday while King Bradley was Fuhrer.

He wasn't sure he liked it. The Consulate was an unstable force at best before he left. He remembered the rough senate which existed up until, apparently, the invasion from the other world. The Consulate, dubbed the Council of Seven, survived that mess better, and the populace of Amestris felt greater confidence in the smaller, more flexible group.

That being the case, he wasn't sure good news was to be released. The fledgling, democratic government was at a precarious perch in its development. Contrary to his logic, he had to admit the festive mood was infectious. He was almost delirious with excitement despite his reservations.

Being attentive and wishing to assuage his doubts, Al listened to the Ishvallans he traveled with and what rumors he gleamed off passing citizens. General Kelly Westford was the de facto commander and chief of the Amestris armed forces, and few were truly happy with his leadership. He was an old war hawk. Could the announcement concern him?

The most interesting rumors, however, were of Brigadier General Roy Mustang. Al could hardly believe his ears. Was the famed Flame Alchemist returned to his rightful position as a hero of Amestris? The people were upbeat in mention of his name, and Al clearly saw the smiles on the more knowledgeable Ishvallan faces.

* * *

On nearly the opposite side of Central at a quarter till the big announcement, Rose and Ed made their way past onlookers. They heard hushed whispers, but they couldn't make out what was said. She took note of the nervous glances. They people looked like they were looking at a ghost, and it was likely the elder Elric was exactly a poltergeist to them.

To those who knew him, he disappeared years ago. He was among the most famous and popular Alchemists. He was Full Metal, Hero of the People. His disappearance caused a feeling of panic and anxiousness, and people did not like salt being rubbed on old wounds. If the dash of hope turned out to be false, there was no telling the ends to which people might go to punish him.

Rose knew she led the _real_ Edward Elric into Central, but she also knew it was too soon to reveal this knowledge to the denizens of the metropolis. She needed Winry Rockbell's automail expertise first to help the lost son of Amestris. Of course, knowing what she needed to do and accomplishing it were two, entirely different beasts.

He was able to amble along with relatively no help thanks to the crutch. As much as she might have preferred to think his legless gait was what was drawing attention, she knew it was more his blond locks tied back in the infamous ponytail and uncanny, golden eyes. He stood out in a crowd, and it wasn't helping them in this one case. As such, she hurried him inside a shop.

When they reemerged upon the streets of Central, Ed's face was shadowed in the hood and an earthen-colored cloak. The cloak was enough to hide his long ponytail and unusual clothes; though, the latter was less than necessary. After the makeover, they moved much more freely; though, the freedom also meant they now heard the rumor mill.

Rose faintly smiled as she wondered which of the rumors would generate the most interest or attract Winry the fastest.

The ghost of Edward Elric has suddenly appeared in the streets of Central, and he's looking for revenge upon Bradley's loyal goons. There's another Full Metal impersonator, and he even went so far as to remove his right arm and left leg to play the part. The Hero of the People has a girlfriend!

She definitely liked the last one.

* * *

There were only five minutes left until the Consulate made their big announcement. It was easily the most secretive the people of Central could recall. There were rumors, but no concrete facts made their way among the people. Sheska partially saw to that little detail. If her inherited spy network found a rumor to be too close to the truth, they managed to twist it just enough to keep things low-key.

It was the most outrageous of the rumors which caught her attention the fastest, however. A flower girl approached her pretending to deliver a bouquet of flowers to show her affection and loyalty to Mustang. The specific arrangement immediately caught her attention. It was a very specific, special code. _"It's about the kids."_ There was only one interpretation.

She ran for Mustang holding the flowers out for him. He spotted them, and his eyes went wide. After getting over his initial shock, he prepared himself. As if well rehearsed, she performed almost too realistically. At an appropriate distance, she tripped over herself and sent the flowers crashing into his chest, ruining them. He lifted his hand to catch her just before she slid off him to the ground, and she graciously accepted his hand to stop herself and pull herself back up.

Riza recognized the play, and, unfortunately for them all, Winry recognized something in his eye. The former watched for the expected signal, and she saw exactly that. Mustang carefully cupped the smallest flower and brought it to his nose. Dramatically, he sniffed the flower to enjoy its scent. Riza quickly grabbed Winry and stormed out.

When they were out of sight, Mustang turned to Sheska as he quickly opened the letter he hid under the petals of the flower he choose. His eyes scanned the words before he locked his eye on her eyes. "Is this authentic?" He carefully hid his emotions.

She shook her head. "It's impossible to tell. These are just rumors." She watched as he read the paper a second and third time. She felt a lump in her throat and hope in her heart. She wanted to be calm, but she found her anxiousness caused her to blurt out her thoughts. "It almost looks like he came with Rose!"

His expression hardened. Rose, Lior…they were both casualties of Dante's pompous war. His hands trembled as he fought the urged to clench them into fists. Did he dare hope? Could the rumors be true? Might Edward Elric have returned? He closed his eyes and spoke as calmly as he could. "You know more than anyone not to jump to conclusions."

Sheska jumped when they heard speaker feedback. Mustang looked up for a moment before taking a glance over his shoulders. His subordinates were already filing in behind him, and Riza was walking to stand beside him. He took her hand and squeezed it to pass the slip of paper to her and disguise it as a silent gesture of appreciation and support. It didn't get past Winry, growing more suspicious.

Time was up. Central and the rest of Amestris were about to find out about Mustang's return and reinstatement. She'd have to wait until later to see why the man of the hour had a familiar and seldom seen look on his face, knowledge in _her_ boys, especially the elder.

* * *

The crowds naturally gravitated towards the grand stage set up for the big announcement. Al knew what was going on because of what the Ishvallans told him and what he heard in town. He just didn't know what was to be said. Ed and Rose came mainly to find Winry, so they only knew something big was about to happen. Neither was really interested.

Sheska's spy network was carefully dispersed to provide a pseudo crowd control. Mustang was grateful for it. She was handling the situation well, and she was showcasing to the rest of his inner circle how valuable she had become thanks to Maes' training. They weren't really surprised, Riza especially.

The Consulate members were already delivering a speech. The opening was another of Jeremiah Twain's deep if poor poetry. The crowd listened with an equal sense of awe at the meaning and disgust at the delivery. Julian Rivers, Gwyneth Riggs, William Pond, and Alan Kingston talked about the current state of Amestris and how it could still improve with the combined efforts of its entire people, including the Ishvallans.

Lieutenant General Jack Daniels was the last of the Consulate members to speak. There was a little bit of feedback as he got too close to the microphone, but the people so eagerly waited on baited breath they forgave the transgression. He spoke of a great man returning to Amestris. He said the man was already within Central and had helped them clear up many mysteries. Murmurs ran through the crowd, and two names caught his attention. The people believed the man was either Roy Mustang or Edward Elric.

Daniels smiled and stood to one side. He gestured to the opposite side of the stage where Mustang stood in the center of his inner circle, and he smiled as he introduced the man of honor. Unseen by the distracted and cheering crowd, Warrant Officer Benjamin Daniels was walking towards his brother's back with a velvet case.

The elder Daniels took the velvet case from the younger Daniels before turning back to Mustang. It was a small case, a formality at ceremonies like this. He opened it to reveal the rank insignia to designate and fully welcome Brigadier General Roy Mustang back to the proud Amestris armed forced.

From his balcony overlooking the scene, General Kelly Westford sneered. He did not like how the crowd cheered. _"Did they forget he _killed_ our Fuhrer?!"_ He jolted when he heard footsteps behind him, but he calmed when he heard how heavy they were. He knew they could only belong to one person. He didn't even look up as he spoke. "I gave the Council of Seven too much freedom. They have committed such an atrocious act before my Seven Judges or I could act. Is Arbitrator Scythe ready to act?"

The man in heavy armor looked down at his leader's sitting form. In the sunlight, the figure matched only one silhouette from the secret meeting, Kingdom. The Adjudicator of the Seven Judges considered Westford for only a moment. "As for Arbitrator Scythe's preparedness, he is most eager to kill. However, I have news of a different sort." He paused long enough for his leader to look at him. "Arbitrator Blade states movement from the other source."

Westford nodded. He knew what Kingdom meant. While Blade had the valuable skill of something near clairvoyance, the rank Adjudicator belonged only to the one best suited to lead. He was glad, however, as Blade was positioned second only to Kingdom. "How close are they?"

Kingdom looked directly into his leader's eyes; though, the latter couldn't tell for the former's eyes were hidden in constant shadows. The intimidating man in armor answered only after considering his words. "They will disrupt this ceremony."

As if on cue, multiple shadows crossed the throngs. The ceremony was, indeed, interrupted as everybody looked to the skies to see mechanical, flying devices. Even to the military personnel who saw airplanes previously from the strange invasion from another world, these contraptions were a strange sight to see.

They were far more sophisticated. They were flying low enough to identify the symbol, and it was one they'd never seen before. It was two waves crashing together with a white boomerang overlapping both. They were plump airships, likely excellent as troop transport. They were heading south, and the trajectory pointed towards landing just outside the city limits.

Without command, crowd control was immediately started. The panicking denizens were carefully directed to designated safe areas. The Mustang Seven were rushing towards the suspected landing zone. Whoever those aircraft belong to, they were from a country they didn't know. They suspected such mechanisms might have been or become necessary for that nation's survival.

Winry tried to follow after, but she was separated, and the crowd helped push her where she wasn't interested in going. She lost track of Bunny, Calvin, and Cybil too. She sighed as the streets emptied and she was left alone. She thought she was at first, anyway.

She looked across the street to see two people still staring in the direction the unknown devices flew. She couldn't make out one of the figures completely because he wore an earthen-colored cloak. How did she know the figure was male? She slowly blinked and turned her head to the second person, and her breath caught in surprise. _"Why is Rose here?"_

The two realized they were not alone and turned to Winry. Rose quickly smiled and waved at the young, automail mechanic. Ed, realizing his companion knew the…overly familiar looking blond across the way, removed the hood to his cloak, and it ended up being an interesting balancing act. In the end, he watched as Winry's expression changed in all sorts of unexpected ways.

She found herself stunned, confused, happy, hopeful, sad, angry, joyous, jealous, regretful, and many more superfluous emotions. Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them back. She tried to find her voice to say something, anything. Instead, she barely choked out one thing she didn't know if she'd be able to say again. "Ed-ward…?"

* * *

The Mustang Seven arrived to the landing scene in time to see two people disembark from the lead aircraft. Before being spotted, they ducked behind whatever cover was available. The seven of them managed to fine a large boulder and small alcove. Mustang, Riza, and Sheska ducked into the alcove, while the four men hid behind the boulder. They weren't spotted.

The two men they observed were having a friendly conversation. The taller man bore a striking resemblance to a certain, young Alchemist. He looked like a taller, silver-haired version of Edward Elric. His eyes were the color of cold, blue steel, however, and he wore a very military uniform. It was a green uniform with yellow highlights.

The other man was likely a civilian and was short and plump. He wore gentleman's clothes in an ashen blue color. He wore something of a top hat, and his stride was more a waddle. He glanced their way for a moment before pulling out a pair of sunglasses and putting them on. Mustang, however, thought he noticed something. He thought he saw an ouroboros, a snake eating its own tail, in the civilian's left eye instead of a pupil and iris.

* * *

I wonder if amnesia is too much a cliché? Oh well, it gets the gears a'turnin'!

Anyway, I'm sure there are some questions about Rose and her conversation with Ed. Consider this, Ed already knew the circumstances when he left. She's already comfortable around him and with him knowing. She also got over it (though, _anybody_ will say you never get completely over it) a long time ago and became a strong leader for her people. There may also be worry about jumping emotions. One, Rose maintains a serene presence even under a harsh topic. Two, pain transference theory works to explain how Ed can hop from anger to outright fright.

I am _banging my head on the hardest implement I can find!_ Why? I introduced _nine more _original characters. That means I have _at least **twenty-two**_ original characters to keep track of.

Also, the statement in my last release was oddly prophetic. I did, indeed, recently finish my Discrete Math course. I won't know my final grade for another week, but I feel confident of the results.

Chapter 2 of _Fate, Alchemy, and Bridges _was easily _the_ most productive chapter I've uploaded to this site, yet. I am happy and, frankly, stunned to see the response. Please oh readers, stun me again!

I appreciate comments and constructive criticism, but outright flames will be ignored.

Story Word Count: 10,040  
Story Page Count: 20


	5. Chapter 4: Land of Gunships

TimeShifter: Don't forget, scenes from the movie and end of the anime indicated Winry and Rose became friends. Armstrong also seemed to have an attachment to her son...who remained nameless...which is something of a plot hole. As for Envy, you'll just have to wait and see if I only used him as a plot device or more. This chapter answers _some_ questions... Come to think of it, the Seven Judges are quite interesting to write.

S J Smith: I had a lot of fun/terror writing that Rose/Edward scene. I wanted to portray Rose as a strong woman still a bit unsure of herself.

* * *

**Land**** of Gunships**

"Ed-ward…?" The name itched at her throat as a lump formed and made it hard to breathe let alone swallow. Tears stung her eyes as she fought to maintain a modicum of composure. Her knees buckled, but she found herself walking towards the blond alchemist uncontrollably. First she touched his face. He was _real_. She embraced him and began sobbing.

Rose wore a sad smile at the scene. She backed up, put an arm around her back, and held the opposite elbow. It was touching, but it hurt so much. She was friends with them both. She couldn't help but giggle when Ed looked to her with pleading eyes. She casually inclined her head to indicate the golden-haired woman. "Edward, this is your mechanic friend, Winry."

Her blue eyes turned to Rose in shock. "What?! Why do you have to introduce Ed to me?!" She pulled him to arms length and looked into his golden eyes. She loved those eyes, but she couldn't help but wonder, after learning about his father's past, if they might have been caused by taint from Homunculus. She wouldn't change them for anything, and she only gazed into them as if she could find the answers.

His heart sank as her face fell. He held a tinge of eerie familiarity, like not knowing her offered a world of pain. Worse, the feeling in the pit of his stomach told him he was hurting this woman, and hurting her was the _last_ thing he wanted to do. He found himself searching her orbs for answers.

As he was grasping for an answer, any answer, Rose saved him. "He took a nasty spill, and he has a bad case of amnesia." Winry and Ed looked to her. Tears were already working their way down Winry's cheeks, and Ed was clearly panicked at the distraught she felt. Rose managed a cheery smile. "In all honesty, I _was_ hoping seeing you would jar some memories, but I think you realize what's more important here."

Winry watched as Rose inclined her head. She gasped when she realized what she should have seen before. Ed was walking only because of a crutch! He was wandering around with out any automail. She wiped the tears from her face and fought back fresh ones. After she helped support him, she started walking down the street towards the hotel she was rooming at. "Daylight's wasting, Rose. Let's get him fixed up, so we can have a nice chat."

The girls helped him down the street. With civilians cleared and military taking care of the ruckus, he was more than willing to accept their aid. Winry locked an eye on him as they walked down the deserted street. She had one thought in her mind. _"He's home. He's finally home!"_ She had a feeling and held a hope that Al wasn't far behind.

* * *

In the confusion, Al was separated from the Ishvallans he was traveling with. He thought he saw them being escorted by military personnel, but he wasn't sure. It looked, to him, like civilians all over the city were being evacuated. It certainly helped that a large portion of Central's population showed up to attend Mustang's reinstatement. He was most worried about the flying contraptions which initially caused the stir.

He was running in the direction of the crafts' decent when a shadow caught his attention. He looked to where it seemed to glide across the wall, but the short lapse in his attention was all it took for him to slam into a solidly built, warm body. He fell to the street and felt a jarring pain run through his backside. Eyes closed, he rubbed his throbbing nose. "Ah sorry, I wasn't paying attention to where…"

"Alphonse Elric!" He was interrupted by a familiar, boisterous bellow and easily hoisted into the air. Before he had a chance to respond, he was smothered by mounds and pounds of muscle. There was only one person he could think of. Alex Louis Armstrong pulled Al to arm's length to have a better look at him. "How did you return through the Gate? I heard Mustang destroyed it."

Al coughed as he regained his breath, face nearly blue. The Strong Arm Alchemist had a crushing grip. After a moment, he managed a smile and scratched his cheek nervously. "Well, apparently the Gate wasn't happy we were on the other side, so it sent Envy to ensure we came back."

Armstrong set Al down and looked into his eyes. He had always been an excellent judge of character, and nobody got lies past him. After a moment, he determined the young man was telling the truth and asked his question again. "That doesn't answer the question, Alphonse Elric. If Mustang destroyed the Gate, how did you return through it?"

Al frowned and looked to the ground. "Truth is, Envy said the Gate of Truth _wasn't_ destroyed." He heard the Strong Arm Alchemist practically gasp. He looked up and interrupted before the older man could respond. "Brother compared it to a bridge after hearing the explanation. Envy sent us back here…to rid himself of nuisances." He chuckled. "A bit ironic, he helped us to satisfy his personality quirks."

Armstrong nodded. It was as good an explanation as any. He knew he'd get the full story later. For now, he was satisfied in knowing the boys were safe. When he had the chance, he was going to find Mustang and sit down to a powwow. He blinked remembering something. "Alphonse Elric, where is your brother Edward Elric?"

With a heavy sigh, Al shook his head. "I don't know. We got separated in the…err…fall." He admitted the last part sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his head. "I ended up in an Ishvallan camp, and we decided to come here because it was the best chance to find him. If I know brother, he'd head here just because of rumors Mustang was here."

Armstrong again nodded. He indicated a safe zone. "Come Alphonse Elric, we should get to safety. We can search for your brother Edward Elric once the emergency has passed." He noted the nod of approval before leading the way. He had a feeling things were going to get a lot worse before they got better, but at least he knew the boys were back. Maybe Mustang could finally start forgiving himself.

* * *

The country side of Risembool was usually quiet; 'usually' being the operative word. It was far to the southeast of Central and mostly farmland. Those facts didn't stop an old granny from having unwelcome guests. From the porch, Pinako Rockbell was staring down such guests as they approached her house.

Den wasn't being any help. He wagged his tail and enthusiastically waited. Pinako knew why. He recognized their scent. Even she could smell it from halfway across her front yard. She reached for her pipe but thought better of it. "I suppose I should have been expecting you two."

The man and woman stopped at the bottom of the steps when the old woman spoke. They smiled warmly at her. Pinako looked to the woman. She was dainty, especially with her warm, yellow-orange fall dress. It accentuated her fiery, red hair while highlighting her crystal, blue eyes. "Gwendolyn Ashcraft…"

She paused to look to the man. He had a large nose, just like his father and grandfather. His squinted eyes were like his mother's, and they were the same almond color. She just didn't know where he got the dirty blond hair. "Harvard Rivers…" She sighed. "…to what do I owe the honor?"

Gwendolyn wore a broad grin. "What? I can't just visit my grandmother?" She giggled at Pinako's expression before putting on a mock pout. "I'll take that as a 'no.' That hurts."

Harvard shook his head as he smirked and rolled his eyes. "Really, Pinako, we might be bringing you business." His statement almost sounded like a question. Her next expression caused him to raise a brow. "My, if looks could kill…"

Pinako tapped her foot impatiently. "I told'ja I wanted nothin' to do with the Consulate. They may be doin' some good, but Hohenheim warned me 'bout some dangerous fellows still thinkin' 'bout Dante's utopia."

Harvard rubbed his eyes. "How many steps ahead was that man?" He smiled as he looked back up to the old woman. "We aren't here to convince you to join or help the Consulate. We can trust the current members. We have a message to deliver. For example, Mustang has been returned to Central."

Gwendolyn closed her eyes and tilted her head to one side with a smile. "We expect him to be reinstated today, in fact." She pouted after a moment when Pinako made no indication of how she was taking the news. She decided to continue. "We've sensed the Shadows moving, and we're pretty sure something _else_ sinister is hanging over Amestris."

Pinako sighed. "What does this have anythin' to do with me?" Den whimpered beside her, wondering why she was so agitated.

Harvard still wore a smile, but it was darkened by a twinge of sadness. "You are the best automail mechanic we know. Ken's already been repaired by your only living granddaughter, Winry." The further darkening of her mood did not go unnoticed.

Gwendolyn spoke up. "You know we wouldn't come to you without good reason." She flinched at the look from Pinako. "I'm still your granddaughter. You should, at least, be able to believe me."

"Aye…" Pinako drawled as she gave the two a hard look. "You were my granddaughter, and I loved you and your mother. It was your father I didn't like, and look what happened thanks to him." Her gaze was sharp and accusing. "I can imagine how you met up with Ken, and I'm sure you know how little I trust him."

Harvard let his shoulders slump and head sink. "We aren't like Dante. We're trying to look out for Amestris." He gently looked to Gwendolyn then Pinako. "We've paid a heavy price, and you know well enough what Ken's actually trying to accomplish."

Pinako huffed, and Den whimpered. "Maes told me as much." She really didn't want to help them, but she knew being an automail mechanic was a lot like being a doctor. She didn't swear to a Hippocratic Oath, but she knew Gwendolyn and Harvard's conditions better than anyone.

She sighed with some resignation. "Don't tell me you haven't had repairs since you last saw me, twelve years ago." She gave them a knowing, suspicious look. "Besides, sounds like you got yourselves some comfy positions lined up."

Gwendolyn sheepishly scratched her cheek. "Honestly, we were hoping it wouldn't be necessary. I was surprised to hear most assumed I'd succeed Professor Riggs."

Harvard nodded. "Yes… Though it's a free election, the people seem comfortable sticking with a tradition of sorts." He didn't hide how uncertain he was.

Pinako eyed Harvard then Gwendolyn. With an exasperated sigh, she waved them in. "Well, don't just stand there. I can't very well have you two wander off to get repairs elsewhere. A bad word might put me in a bad pinch." Den barked and wagged his tail happily as he followed his master.

Gwendolyn blinked and put her hand out as if to catch her. "Wait, we wouldn't…" She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked to her side.

Harvard shook his head. "Let her be. She has her own reasons." He watched her nod sadly before they followed the old woman into the house.

They looked around the welcoming abode and heard the early sounds of Pinako readying her shop. They purposely avoided looking into the rooms along the way. The old memories were painful. Harvard looked to Gwendolyn and wondered how she was able to hold out. Her face was set in determination, and he knew it was for the greater good.

They stood at the door leading into her shop as she dug through a chest. She already set her toolbox to the side, so they figured she was looking for the appropriate material or limbs. "You seen your mother recently?"

Gwendolyn blinked at the unexpected question. "I'm sorry grandmother, but I…can't see her." She tried her best to smile. "I could look into it…if you wanted to see her." She failed to hide the pleading tone in her voice.

Pinako sighed. "I've lost all my children, and only one grandchild is left alive." She turned around holding a satchel of the appropriate materials. A loose, metal hand hung from a bent wrist, and it flapped lightly as she bent down to pick up the toolbox. Gwendolyn was about to say something, but Pinako interrupted. "Quiet! I haven't forgotten my own family."

Gwendolyn and Harvard watched as Pinako walked to lay-down workbench. It was designed for a person to lie down on while automail was either attached or repaired. She continued to talk even as she set up her equipment. "My son and his wife died as doctors, and I'm not about to let them show me up by ignorin' somebody with the same cause."

"I lost my daughter to a bum I didn't approve of, and it got her and my first granddaughter killed." She sent a sharp look over her shoulder. "These 'Shadows' you mentioned…I can't forgive 'em." She harshly set a wrench down as she returned her attention to her setup. "…and Ken's the last person I want to hear about!"

Gwendolyn flinched, and Harvard sadly lowered his head. Pinako wasn't quite finished. "I mourned your deaths…" Her voice was obviously wavering. "I cut off ties with the two of you because of that…_man_…" She used the term loosely. "…and then I lose you so soon after my son and his wife in Ishval…"

"Grandmother…" Gwendolyn paused apologetically. "I…I understood. Mother did, too!" She noticed Pinako looking at Harvard almost expectantly. She blinked as she looked at him.

He was nervous as he tried to figure out what she wanted. "Wh-What? Is something on my face?"

Pinako pointed to the door. "You go on, get. It's inappropriate to see a woman in such a state of undress!" Gwendolyn had the decency to blush as Harvard madly blinked and retreated out of the shop. After the door slammed behind him, she turned to Gwendolyn. "Well, what are you doing? I can't have you lollygagging around. Get undressed and on the table!"

* * *

The seeming and definitely foreign military commander nodded his head to a silent comment from his plump, civilian companion. He turned to the alcove Mustang, Hawkeye, and Sheska were using as cover. Hawkeye felt a nervous sweat as Sheska started shaking.

Mustang eyed his female subordinates before stepping out. Standing before the unknowns, he confidently flipped his hair. "You've got a lot of nerve landing so close to the Flame Alchemist without announcing yourself ahead of time." He sent them an icy glower telling them they weren't welcome.

The plump man clapped his hands then started dancing, for lack of a better term. He rapidly shifted weight from one leg to the other as his clapping turned to pointing. "Oh! Oh! There he _is_! There he is!" His voice was almost singsong as he addressed the much taller commander.

The silver-haired commander shook his head as he chided the civilian. "You can't go around making a spectacle of yourself. Where are your manners?" He turned to Mustang and offered his hand. "I hear this 'handshake' is a traditional greeting in Amestris." He raised a brow when the gesture wasn't returned but continued nonetheless. "I'm General Spartan Isovar, Regent of Corsair."

The civilian pointed to himself and exuberantly proclaimed his name. "I'm called Lucifer, and you're…" He pointed to Mustang and Hawkeye in turn. "…Colonel Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist and Hero of Ishval, and Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye, expert marksman and personal assistant and liaison for him!"

Mustang lowered his head almost enough for his chin to touch his chest as he raised his hand to a ready position. Of course, he kept one hand hidden in his pocket. Hawkeye took the cue to draw and ready her pistol. While Mustang was trained on Lucifer, Hawkeye had her sights on Isovar. Of course, the military behind and supporting Isovar trained their sights on the threats.

The silver-haired commander raised his hands in mock surrender. He wore a confident grin as he spoke. "Is that any way to treat a peaceful delegation? We only came here to talk alliance and trade." His voice was as smooth and confident as his demeanor. He waved his hand to silently order his men to lower their arms. They reluctantly followed orders.

Lucifer's grin broadened and nearly did the impossible, spread ear to ear. His face was practically glowing as he spoke. "I've wanted to meet the great Flame Alchemist for so long! Oh! Oh! I want to see the hero of the people, Full Metal Alchemist! I simply must see Major Edward Elric!" He was obviously excited as he was, once more, clapping his hands.

Mustang eyed Isovar. "I don't trust Homunculi." For his part, the silver-haired commander was surprised…that it was even noticed. Mustang smirked and decided to elaborate. "I saw the mark of the ouroboros. Like the ouroboros indicates, he is a snake who eventually leads to the downfall of himself and others."

Lucifer pouted and pulled his sunglasses to the tip of his nose. "Aw, I was hoping you hadn't noticed." He pushed them back to the bridge of his nose. "Oh well, I should have known you'd seen it. You've got sharp eyes, and Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye only compliments you there."

Lucifer blinked when Riza set her pistol's sites on his ouroboros-marked eye. Isovar raised his eyebrows when he heard four, successive clicks and looked to a large boulder to see four men emerge. They slowly approached Riza's flanks for a support and defensive position. Sheska was protected as if by a wall.

Lucifer took a step forward, and Mustang tensed. The Homunculus tilted his head to one side as he came to a calm halt. "You should know this eye well, Colonel Roy Mustang." Mustang's gaze grew colder still. He shrugged it off as he continued. "I haven't used it on you, but I can tell with normal sight that you are a skilled Alchemist."

Isovar lightly chuckled. "Can't we discuss these matters like civilized men?" He pointed a glance over Mustang's shoulder. "I'm sure that reassuring backup alleviates some of your fears. My biggest advantage is grounded, and you know my companion's…secret. Maybe I should even let you confiscate my men's weapons?"

Mustang smirked but didn't lower his hand. "That would be a start. In fact, why don't they go ahead and start laying their weapons in front of my friends." He indicated the men flanking Riza. With Havoc and Falman helping her, no hidden weapon would go unmissed.

Isovar wore an amused smirk. He nodded and turned to his men. He confidently lowered his arms to a more comfortable position as he delivered his orders. "Men, we are _not_ surrendering, so do not allow your pride to be hurt when you lay down your arms. It is not Grand Sovereign's wish for Corsair to bear arms against Amestris."

The men, though obviously reluctant, formed neatly filed lines to deposit their weapons in front of Riza, Havoc, Falman, Fuery, and Breda. By the time reinforcements from Central arrived, over a third of the soldiers were unarmed. To everybody's surprise, they were all regular soldiers carrying no hidden weapons.

Mustang narrowed his eyes. Something was amiss. Even Isovar was carrying no hidden weapons, and Lucifer could be considered a weapon. He felt something didn't sit right, and he felt himself growing anxious. With reinforcements, the disarming went quickly. Approximately twenty-seven minutes after starting, all Corsair soldiers who could be accounted for were relieved of their arms.

An invisible line separated the armed forces of Amestris from Corsair and vice-versa. The Corsair forces were tense, but they put on a brave face. They were surrounded by armed Amestris forces, and State Alchemists were starting to arrive from Central. Mustang had to admit one thing. _"If this is an invasion, it's one poorly executed one. We now have them outmanned and outgunned, and they don't appear to have anything like our State Alchemists Corps."_

He still couldn't shake the feeling in the pit of his stomach as he approached a Lieutenant Colonel. He frowned; the rank insignia brought back memories. Pushing aside thoughts of the Ishvallan War, he coughed to draw the man's attention. The Lieutenant Colonel, almost a decade older than Mustang with grey hair and olive eyes, presented a proper salute. When Mustang returned and dropped his, he followed in proper order.

Mustang carefully eyed Isovar as he talked to the liaison to Westford's office. "Has General Westford been informed? He should be here to handle negotiations." He hated to admit it, but protocol stated that the ranking officer of a given area had charge of the troops for as long as he or she was able. That officer was General Kelly Westford.

The Lieutenant Colonel failed to mask his confused expression. "Sir, by order of the Consulate, Lieutenant General Roy Mustang may assume full authority of the current crisis." He paused for a moment. The man in front of him was wearing the rank insignia for a Brigadier General. "You are Lieutenant General Mustang; are you not, sir?"

Mustang managed to carefully control his expression. He felt Riza's demeanor change, but he trusted her expression to remain impassible. He glanced to where the rest of his inner circle were inspecting the weapons Corsair surrendered. With a sigh, he returned his gaze to the Lieutenant Colonel. "I am Mustang, but I don't remember being promoted from Brigadier General. I also don't remember permission to act as Central Region's delegate."

The Lieutenant Colonel nodded in understanding before padding his uniform to locate something. After a moment of search, he withdrew a folded sheet of paper and handed it to Mustang. "Sir, as of the conclusion of this afternoon's ceremony, this documentation is official." He paused for a moment as his superior opened and read the document. "With your reinstatement and promotion, you are in charge of Central Region; though, General Westford maintains his stance as the current commander-in-chief until such a time the consulate appoints a new Fuhrer, sir."

Mustang hid his smirk behind the document. It was signed and sealed by each member of the Consulate. He could guess they would have given him his new rank insignia in front of all the witnesses. He forced a neutral expression when he handed the paper, folded as it was handed to him, back to the Lieutenant Colonel. "Thank you, Colonel. That will be all. I have matters to attend to." He quickly saluted the subordinate before turning his attention to Isovar.

The Lieutenant Colonel returned the salute. "Yes sir!" He quickly returned to his post wondering how General Westford was going to take the news.

* * *

The old man let out an angry growl as he slammed his fists onto his desk. He'd let out a yelp of pain if not for his pride. General Kelly Westford was _far_ from a happy camper. He left the ceremonies which resulted from a farce of a trail when the unidentified flying objects flew over Central. His personnel, in fact, escorted him to his offices for safety concerns. He was fully capable of issuing orders and making decisions off the field of battle.

Less than ten minutes after arriving, a messenger delivered a communiqué from the Consulate. It was official documentation outlining _Lieutenant_ General Roy Mustang's promotion and subsequent control over Central Region. Though a perfectly viable General was stationed in Central, they effectively handed control over to Mustang. _"Those insolent worms…! Mustang is a _traitor_!"_ He looked up. "Kingdom!"

It took only a moment. The armor-clad shadow warrior coalesced from the dark corner to Westford's right. He looked to the current command-in-chief of the Amestris armed forces and noticed a very official looking document between the old man's fisted hands. He also noticed the founder of the Seven Judges was shaking. "Your dreams are in jeopardy."

If it was anybody else, Westford might think a question was asked. Even if he was furious, he recognized how his right-hand man was absolutely calm. No, he realized it was more than that simple fact. Kingdom seemed devoid of emotion, and he trusted the reasoning and logic from such a mind. "Those worms now conspire with the treasonous snake! They've assigned the murderer of our country's hero to govern the Central Region."

Kingdom was silent for a moment as if considering what was stated. His next statement proved otherwise. "Is that all?" He watched his commander blink as if startled. The armored man had expected more, perhaps even worse. "As long as you remain the commander of the armed forces of all Amestris, one individual's position shouldn't unsettle you."

Westford sighed as he fought to control his emotions. Yes, it was logical. He closed his eyes to think for a moment. He wanted to know what was really bothering him. After a moment, he spoke without opening his eyes. He was much calmer. "He was also promoted past Major General to Lieutenant General." He paused as he opened his eyes. "Ah yes, that puts him one rank below me, and only a stone's throw away from Fuhrer."

Kingdom nodded. "Your analysis is now logically acute. Mustang _is_ a threat, but you were, as they say, flying off the handle and allowed your emotions to control you." He paused to watch the aged man's expression darken. "Do you believe they are positioning Mustang for such an esteemed rank?"

Westford snarled. "I've little doubt." He picked up, crumpled, and tossed the document offending his eyes. "You can only ascend from Lieutenant General to General through a battlefield promotion, and currently only the Consulate has authority to do so." He turned in his chair to look out the window. "If that traitor is promoted, it's going to be a lot harder to move even if we do hold the necessary pieces."

Kingdom, as always, never shifted position. "We have 'pieces' in place to move. Arbitrator Scythe, Arbitrator Lance, and Arbitrator Steel Claw are awaiting your orders." He paused. "If you wish to push up the schedule, Arbitrator Axe and Arbitrator Bludgeon can be readied at a moment's notice."

Westford raised a brow to his statement. "What about Blade? If you are going to deploy two teams, why not even them out?"

Kingdom didn't need to think to come up with an answer, but he still paused. If not for his seeming emotionless state, the war hawk might think he was staring dumbly as if shocked by such a question. "I only put two Arbitrator Lance and Arbitrator Steel Claw with Arbitrator Scythe to keep an eye on him and ensure he doesn't reach beyond the mission. Arbitrator Axe and Arbitrator Bludgeon can be trusted on their own."

Westford saw the point. Though he couldn't say any _weren't_ bloodthirsty, at least most knew how to control their urges. He also had to admit he didn't know much about them besides the fact they were willing to follow his orders to fulfill his dream. Then, another thought occurred to him. "You want to keep Blade nearby for that…clairvoyance ability, right?"

There was no point hiding the fact. Kingdom nodded. "Yes, Arbitrator Blade's ability to read the probable paths is an absolute necessity. Though the others wouldn't dare to attack, I must not allow the ability to dull."

Westford drew in and exhaled a deep breath. He felt calmer, much calmer. "Adjudicator Kingdom, what can you tell me of the Gate? Is there any real chance of recovering the Full Metal Alchemist?" Though he hated to admit it, the prodigy Alchemist was an indispensable element to Dante's master plan.

It was difficult to see, but Kingdom closed his eyes. He wasn't biding for time to think, however. He was in a sort of 'storyteller' mode. "The Gate of Truth is indestructible and necessary for the longevity of this world and its parallel sister. There is no way even Edward Elric, let alone Roy Mustang, could destroy it. They managed to destroy but a single corridor, yet a corridor is easily replaced or fixed." He opened his eyes, and they almost seemed to be glowing eerily.

Blade chose that moment to appear from the shadows. Though not as heavily armored, the second-in-command of the Seven Judges was also dressed head-to-toe in steel. Whoever was actually behind the armor, it was impossible to discern a gender from the voice. The voice was soft-spoken and polite. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I managed to detect two unfamiliar Shadows."

Westford and Kingdom turned to the possessor of the androgynous voice. The former was slightly surprised. He'd never heard Blade speak before, so he was taken aback. The latter always delivered any messages or predictions the invaluable Arbitrator made. He turned to his trusted advisor. "You do not possess the ability to read the probability of Shadows. How did you learn of their existence?"

Blade politely bowed. "They crossed paths with one whom could affect the probability." The warrior was difficult to read and even seemed to read Westford's next question flawlessly. "Unfortunately, I was unable to determine more than that they are moving. The person they met is very old and connects Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric, and Winry Rockbell."

Westford looked up when there was a sudden knock at the door. Neither Kingdom nor Blade showed any signs of being startled. The old war hawk looked at the two members of the Seven Judges to dismiss them. "Keep a low profile. Tell Scythe he has permission to move. Without Jeremiah Twain, it'll be a bit more difficult for the Consulate to move."

Kingdom and Blade bowed before dissipating into the shadows. Westford released a heavy breath and invited the interruption in. He had the distinct feeling it was going to be a _long_ day, and Mustang's position wasn't helping any.

* * *

After sitting Ed down, Winry looked around the hotel suite. She was obviously upset as her hands were on her hips and she was tapping her foot. Neither Ed nor Rose could guess what was upsetting her until she threw up her hands and cried out in disgust. "Where are Calvin and Cybil, anyway?!" Bunny, she could understand. Her apprentices, however, were supposed to stay with her or in the room they now occupied.

Rose placed a hand on Winry's shoulder. "Those are the twins I met last time I was in Risembool?" Her blue-eyed friend nodded, and she restrained a giggle. "I'm sure you can work on Ed without your apprentices."

Winry let out an exasperated sigh. "Oh, I can work on him easily enough. They have some equipment I need on them." She looked over her shoulder to look at Ed. He had a despondent expression as he gazed out onto the city. Shaking her head, she placed a hand on her shoulder and rotated that arm. "Well, I can at least get started."

Rose wore a smile as Winry got to work. The first thing she did was visit the closet in the hallway. The room was rather large, and hallway separated the combined bed and living room from the bathing room. There were also four closets in the hallway, one on either side of the portal leading into either the combination or bathing room. Winry took a left, towards the door into the hotel, and she was heard opening one such closet. She made a bit of a ruckus as she pulled out a suitcase and pulled something out.

After a few moments, Winry walked back into the combination room with an arm and a leg tucked under one arm and a tool kit in the other hand. She shoved the limbs into Rose's arms before walking towards the bed Ed occupied. After setting the tool kit on the bed and opening it, she turned to him with a command in mind. "Lay down, Ed."

He looked at her for a moment and blinked before complying. He was already down to a tee-shirt and boxers from an earlier command. He blushed and turned away when she started inspecting his stumps. She sighed as she pulled something _cold_ out of the tool kit and started working it onto his leg stump. "Well, it could be much worse. I was worried that inferior technology might make my job a lot more difficult the next time I saw you."

Ed was somewhat confused. Her tone of voice said she wasn't sure she _would_ ever see him again. The thought sent a ripple through his mind, and he pinched the bridge of his nose at the ensuing headache. Why was his heart beating faster at her touch? Why was she making him think more about unlocking his past when it made his head hurt? After a moment, he looked down to see what she attached to his stumps.

Winry saw his confused expression and crossed her arms over her chest. "Don't tell me you don't know what those are, Ed." She was curious how far the amnesia carried. At the very least, he seemed to have rudimentary knowledge. She hoped he'd recognize the preparatory rings

He looked at the metal bands around the stumps of each his right arm and left leg. His eyes became squinted as he was reminded of pain instead of feeling the pain of a new headache. "I'm not sure what they are, but I have a feeling I don't like 'em." He saw Winry smile after his comment. "What?"

Her grin only broadened. "Oh, nothing." She felt reassured. _"At least I know his amnesia isn't selective. I might have to 'reintroduce' trauma if it was."_ He didn't know it, but he saved himself from a giant wrench beating. She turned to Rose and indicated the automail leg. "Rose, could you get some clothe. Don't want Ed biting off his tongue or anything."

Ed and Rose could have been fooled by the sweet smile Winry wore, but both, somehow for the former, knew better. She did as instructed and brought a lightly dampened washcloth. Rolling it up, she held it out to put in his mouth. He looked at it for a moment before opening his mouth and accepting the rag between his teeth.

Without hesitation, Winry tossed Rose a couple strands of rope. "Tie him down, so he can't thrash around too much." Ed's eyes went wide as Winry took hold of his arm and secured it to the bed post. Rose stared at the ropes for a moment before following suit. After a few minutes of tying, knot checking, and a couple of tests, Winry decided Ed was secure enough to operate on. She knew they weren't under the best conditions, but she wasn't considered an authority in the field of automail mechanics for nothing.

The bed was clear on either side, so she was able to kneel to Ed's right side. As she was aligning his new arm, Rose decided to voice a thought she'd been having. "Say Winry, why do you have automail limbs with you, anyway?" She'd been curious since her blue-eyed friend emerged from the hallway closet with them.

Winry shrugged. "No reason in particular. I got into the habit of carrying at least an arm and a leg some time ago, and old habits die hard." She paused for a moment with a broad smirk on her face. "At least, that's what they say." She finished aligning the arm with the preparatory ring. The latter was an essential tool in an elaborate set to attach nerve endings to the former.

She looked half-expectantly to the portal leading to the hallway then hotel suite door. She sighed. "No such luck, huh?" Ed and Rose gave her a confused look. "I was hoping my apprentices might show up. Oh well, I can line up your leg while we wait." She stood and walked around the bed to his left side.

She stopped to look at his leg stump for a moment, and her face scrunched into an expression bordering on worry. Though the damage done to his arm by alchemy was far more extensive because the damage and scaring included part of his shoulder, the leg ended up being the more sensitive one. The attachment point was very near a very sensitive nerve, and a certain male reproductive organ was dangerously close. One slip up meant extra and quite unnecessary pain for the patient.

Winry knew those facts. She had worked on him most of his life. She learned a lot about automail mechanisms because of him…for him. She _still_, after nearly a decade, had to fight down a blush. She knelt down and started lining the leg up with its preparatory ring. "Now don't squirm, Ed." He nodded and waited for her to get started.

She quickly and easily pushed the leg into position. As she was about secure it with a twist, the hotel suite door opened and closed. Shortly thereafter, a questioning noise and gasp was heard in the hallway. It didn't take long for Calvin and Cybil to rush through the portal into the combination room. They looked from Winry to Ed to Rose to Ed and back to Winry.

They didn't know who Winry's friends were, but the twins were healthy, at least relatively, teenagers. Cybil blushed but refrained from commenting. Calvin smirked and released the quip his mind came up with. "Don't ya think that's a little kinky?" He really did seem to have a perverted sense of humor.

Calvin was smart. He really was. He just didn't know when to keep 'clever' comments to himself. He reminded Winry of Ed in that regard. Nonetheless, he was still severely thrashed by his master and older-by-and-hour sister. Cybil waved her fist threateningly in front of his face when he finally regained the strength to stand, and he was bowing and apologizing like a mantra or broken record.

When they were sufficiently appeased, Winry and Cybil allowed Calvin to stand and nurse his lumps. Winry, still fighting a light blush, explained the situation to her apprentices. They listened carefully and soaked in the information. After the explanation, the three prepared the tools necessary for the operation as Rose watched.

Almost as if to pour salt on a wound, the door to the hotel suite opened, and the sound of a happy tune being whistled announced Bunny's arrival. The whistling stopped for a moment as she, obviously, examined the mess in the hallway. It only took a moment for her to casually stroll into the room only to stop with one foot in the air.

She looked at the situation. Winry was kneeling at Ed's leg, ready to attach his nerves to the automail. Calvin and Cybil were busying themselves sorting tools and preparing the most crucial ones. Rose sat on a chair near Ed's head. The golden-eyed teen was strapped to the bed with a washcloth in his mouth. She said the first thing to come to her mind after a sharp whistle. "Whoa, kinky…"

A split second later she leapt through the hotel suite's door into the main hallway. A hail of tools and equipment, furnishings, and the kitchen sink flew after her as she skipped down the hallway to the elevator. She wore the smirk she only showed off when enjoying a good chase. She was _almost_ reminded of her days as a thief, almost.

Winry watched, from halfway across the hallway, as the lights dinged to show what floor Bunny was descending to. She panted and heaved her shoulders as she counted to one hundred to regain control of her emotions. "Why does everybody want to make that comment?!" She jeered. _"Just because it's Ed…"_

Significantly calmer, she walked into a room filled with frightened occupants. The exception was Rose. She smiled gingerly from her position. Winry only scowled as she marched across the room towards Ed. He was sweating bullets as she rolled up her sleeves and made an announcement. "Let's get the ball rolling…"

* * *

Gwendolyn and Harvard sat in Pinako's living room. They had ice bags on their heads, and the latter was still drenched in sweat. Pinako watched them as she finished cleaning her tools, and she was enjoying her guilty pleasure. The smoke from her pipe wafted throughout the large room, but her guests didn't as much as flinch or cough.

With her last wrench sufficiently cleaned, she set it hard upon a wooden counter. They warily turned their attention to her. She removed her pipe from her mouth, puffed out a ring of smoke, and gave them a hard gaze just before speaking. "I see even those fake bodies can feel torture and pain."

Harvard chuckled mirthlessly. "Yeah… I suppose we do." He noticed the harsh glare from Gwendolyn. "What? Even if these are real bodies rather than dolls with souls, she has her reasons."

She looked down. "I know… I know that, but still…" She looked at Pinako with a sorrowful expression. "…we can laugh, love, cry, and even grow old. We're just trying to make up for our mistakes!"

Pinako took a deep breath and sighed. "I know, and I wouldn't have trusted Hohenheim with Trisha if I thought for one moment he wasn't honest and one hundred percent serious." She paused, her expression fierce. "Yet I had to watch the boys go through so much pain…so much suffering because of my trust."

She stuck her pipe back in her mouth and puffed at the narcotic embers. After a moment of watching her guests, she walked over, so she was standing an uncomfortable less than two feet from either. "You know what I did to Hohenheim when he came back to visit Trisha Elric's grave after all those years?"

They shook their heads, and she smirked. Without hesitating, she removed her pipe from her lips and bopped Gwendolyn and Harvard once each over their foreheads. As they were rubbing their respective sore spots, Pinako closed her eyes and sat across from them. "_That's_ for not thinking how your actions might affect others. Hohenheim made Trisha happy, and, though he didn't think far ahead, he did have the best interest of the boys' at heart."

Gwendolyn rose and bowed, and Harvard shortly imitated. When they straightened up, Gwendolyn spoke. "Thanks for the repairs, grandmother. We won't let them go to waste." She motioned for Harvard to get the door, so he went ahead of her. She looked gently down to her elder. "Mother really did understand. We're sorry for not seeing that man for what he really was."

Pinako looked over her shoulder to notice the lack of a male presence. She knew of Harvard through the usual grapevine, but she was more interested in speaking with Gwendolyn. "That man was an Alchemist only interested in gaining more power. He was like Dante in that regard; though, I hear he's turned over a new leaf since then. I'll believe that when I see it."

Gwendolyn shook her head. "I know you have little reason to believe Alchemists who have gone that far, but I've seen him. He's at least making an effort to atone for his sins." She sighed. "Though, I suppose neither of us really has reason to trust him."

Pinako gave her granddaughter a stony glare. "Now look, you've eaten up enough of my time. I thought you said you had some important business to take care of." Inwardly, she wanted to spend more time with her estranged granddaughter. Preferentially, she'd spend time without additional baggage, like Harvard.

Gwendolyn smiled gently. She knew her grandmother's intentions and tomboyish difficulty with words. It was just the way she was. She walked over and stopped by the door. After looking out over the scenery for a moment, she turned to wave. "Farewell…" She practically skipped down the porch and halfway across the lawn towards Harvard.

Pinako walked to the porch where Den waited, wagging his tail. He barked his own farewells to the departing figures as he rushed down the stairs and romped in circles. She watched his antics and the backs of the departing. When they were almost out of sight, she waved at their retreating backs. "Alchemy makes fools of everybody it touches…" She sighed before walking back in the house to prepare dinner.

* * *

"Lieutenant General Roy Mustang…" He rolled his name and new title across his tongue for good measure. "I think I like it." He chuckled. "Though, it doesn't beat 'Fuhrer Roy Mustang'; now does it?" He looked to Riza as if he expected an answer to his rhetorical question. She simply rolled her eyes and gave an exasperated sigh.

He chuckled at her response before noticing Falman walking towards them. He responded by standing a little straighter. He was expecting some news. His subordinate saluted which he returned and dropped, and the Chief Warrant Officer followed suite. "Well, what do you have to report?"

Falman looked over his shoulder to make sure nobody was listening before leaning in to whisper to his superior. "We've searched every soldier, and they've been relieved of their weapons. We have guards positioned at each of their flying machines, and we have the area completely surrounded. If you're going to negotiate, now's probably the best time."

Mustang nodded and signaled for Riza to follow. He waved over his shoulder to Falman as he walked away and spoke. "I'm going to have a nice, little chat with General and Regent of Corsair, Spartan Isovar." His gaze shifted to his familiar and impossible to read happy-go-lucky expression.

He walked to his destination with confidence. His right hand woman walked a careful and precise distance behind him. Her hand rested on her pistol as they neared the tent set up for negotiations. It was flanked by multiple Amestris military police. Their rifles were at the ready, so they didn't salute them as they passed.

Hawkeye double timed in front of Mustang to open the flap for him, and he ducked slightly to enter the low entry. Isovar grinned as his counterpart entered and sat across from him. They locked eyes, and Riza almost rolled her eyes at the testosterone contest of wills.

Oddly, it was Isovar who broke first. "I see you've taken an interest in my gunships." He spoke simply and calmly. The ice broken, he leaned back comfortably in his uncomfortable, metal chair.

Mustang smirked and shrugged. He figured he may as well play it a bit cool. "To be honest, I've seen better." He knew the last airship to invade Central airspace was controlled by alchemy, so its form constantly shifted under its pilot's will. Technically, he didn't know if the _original_ design was better or worse than Isovar's gunships.

Isovar chuckled. "I see." He paused for a moment. He was certain intelligence reports indicated Amestris had no aerial technology, and he knew better than to reveal such knowledge. He angled a different approach. "It's difficult for me to compare, though. After all, I haven't seen _your_ gunships yet."

Mustang let the candle light dance in his eyes as he let the silence pass uncomfortably for a moment. Even if his next statement didn't help gain any real ground, he felt it would prove to help him keep the mental edge. "Who said anything about it being _our_ gunships?"

Isovar's eyes went wide. _"I knew our intelligence was right…but that means they've come away from an engagement with gunships. Hmm, or does it mean they have allies with gunships?"_ He chuckled to alleviate his worries. "Well, I'm interested in setting up a trade. If _you're_ interested in my gunships, _I'm_ interested in a few Alchemists willing to teach back in Corsair."

Mustang thought about what Isovar said for a moment. _"Does that mean Corsair doesn't have our level of knowledge in alchemy? How, then, do you explain a Homunculus among their ranks?"_ He eyed the one calling himself Lucifer sitting peacefully in the corner. The little monster barely even had a presence. He spoke as he returned his gaze to the silver-haired Regent. "What do you propose?"

Isovar's smile spread further across his face. "I'll use an example. If we could borrow, say, Major Edward Elric for a year, we'd be willing to compensate you with a _Sovereign_-class gunship, like my _CSG Jezebella_ and plans for at least _Titan_- and _Ocean_-class gunships."

Mustang and Riza narrowed their eyes. The dignitaries from Corsair seemed dead set on Ed. Mustang was at a slight loss. He didn't know if he should play around with the idea to get more information or come out and say that Ed was missing. He decided on the former. "Oh, that sounds like a lot for just one year of time. You sure you're willing to part with so much?"

Isovar simply nodded. He had no reason to play around. Things would go much smoother if he could just get some information. "We've very interested in how Amestris developed alchemy. It has a much stronger presence here." He paused. "Though, I do agree it's a lot. The exact amount, of course, will change dependent on the skill of the Alchemist. We are an island state, so resources are valuable to us."

Mustang leaned forward a bit. He just heard something interesting. "You're an island state; you say?" He wanted confirmation, and his counterpart simply nodded. "I see. These gunships...they are valuable to you, right?" Again, his counterpart nodded. "You also call them _gun_ships. Care to explain the munitions idiom?"

Isovar chuckled. "I'm not trying to hide it. I've called them gunships from the start because that's what they are. They are _meant_ for conquest." He caught the icy glower but merely smirked. "We are an island state, and, as I said before, resources are valuable to us. Amestris is too large to conquer…and landlocked. _We_ are at the disadvantage."

He noticed the glares his hosts were giving Lucifer. "Oh, worried about him?" He shook his head. "Though we have few Alchemists who even understand him, they've thoroughly researched him. He's quite harmless; I assure you." He suddenly snapped his fingers. "Oh, I know! As a sign of good faith…"

He looked to Lucifer. The rotund Homunculus stood and waddled to the silver-haired man. As he reached into his coat pocket, Hawkeye trained her sights on him. He didn't flinch as he removed a folded paper from his inner pocket. Isovar opened it and slid it across the table.

Mustang warily eyed the General and Regent as he reached out and took the unfolded sheet. He studied it for a moment before eyeing the man. "What is this?"

Isovar smiled widely. "Rather simple, actually. They're plans for flight suits pilots will need. Though the trip is rather comfortable outside the cockpit, a flight suit is necessary to anybody _inside_ the cockpit."

Mustang stood and handed the sheet to Hawkeye. "If you'll excuse us, I need to think about your offer." He politely bowed his head.

Isovar returned the polite gesture with his own. "I see no reason not to. Please, take your time." He kept his smile on as Mustang and Hawkeye excused themselves and left the tent. He let out a sigh of relief as he turned to Lucifer. "Well, well, well, Mustang managed to surprise me. Tell me Lucifer, _when_ have they seen a gunship?"

* * *

Jeremiah Twain sat down to a dinner by himself. He was a bachelor in his late twenties, and it wasn't for lack of admirers he was eating alone. He was practically married to his current girlfriend, but she was away on a business trip to the western state of Crata. Though he'd like to make her absence his excuse for eating alone, he knew it was because he had to get up earlier for a Consulate meeting.

The reinstatement of _Lieutenant_ General Roy Mustang went surprisingly well. They had opposition from General Kelly Westford's office, but it was to be expected. They were expecting opposition via pressure from neighboring states, but Xing and Aelgo didn't so much as budge. In fact, Xing seemed to almost welcome the idea. Jeremiah smirked. Knowing Mustang, he probably had allies in high places awaiting stronger alliances and trading possibilities.

His dinner disappeared as he thought on the past few weeks and the coming weeks. He was a pragmatic man who saw the world in varying degrees of gray. Though he admitted to being a bit of a pacifist, he had followed Mustang's career very closely. The Flame Alchemist interested him because his personal hero, Richard 'Phoenix' Hawkeye, tutored him in his early years.

As he washed his dishes, Jeremiah thought on Phoenix. Nothing was left of the man's alchemy _except_ in Mustang's head. He never left any books, including enigmatic works like Doctor Marco's recipe cookbooks. It was something he was always fascinated by. He learned a long time ago that most Alchemists wrote their secrets down in code, and that code required both a working knowledge of alchemy and a cipher.

According to the only Alchemists he personally knew, Lloyd Furr and Ulysses Ashcraft, Phoenix's philosophical books, romance novels, and other works of literature contained none of the characteristics of alchemic notes. Was all that left to Mustang? If so, would he be allowed to view it…if he was willing to remain silent about it?

Jeremiah sighed as he finished drying his dishes. His head was so full of thoughts and questions, as always. He wanted to clear his mind to prepare for bed, so he hung the drying cloth on its rack and headed towards his study. When he felt bogged down, he knew he could write for an hour or two and leave his study clear headed.

Halfway to his personal sanctuary, he heard his doorbell ring. He stopped midstride and turned to face the door with a befuddled expression. When he didn't answer the call, a second chime rang through his abode. Instinctively, he looked out a window then to a grandfather clock. It was late, and it was dark out. He never received guests at such an hour.

With a sigh, he made his way to the door on the third chime. He also decided to answer his impatient visitor. "I'm coming." He made sure his voice was loud and clear and _not_ annoyed. When he reached his door, he looked through the tinted glass to try to make out the silhouette before turning the knob and opening it. He blinked in surprise when he saw nobody there…despite _seeing_ a figure a moment ago. "Hello…?"

Jeremiah was a practical man. Though he understood how alchemy might be seen as mystical or supernatural, he never understood the fascination with ghosts and ghouls and such paranormal phenomenon. Despite his reasoning and better judgment, he felt like a presence was behind him that _couldn't_ be there. He turned to look over his shoulder in time to see light glare off a _sharp_ metal edge.

Faster than he thought he could move, he ducked and rolled out of the way. He cried out in pain and crashed into a nearby bookshelf. He gripped his shoulder in pain to attempt to stem the bleeding. A deep, nearly arterial wound quickly soaked the upper quadrant of his shirt in blood. He gritted his teeth as he forced his eyes open to see the most peculiar sight he thought he'd ever see.

A man clad head to toe in leather was carrying a scythe. He had a manic glint in his eyes and a broad grin on his lips. Though the scythe looked heavy and unbalanced, he managed to hold it in one hand as he clapped both hands together. "Sweet!" His voice was as full of glee as his expression. "I was worried the daisy would be pushing up daisies without giving me time to enjoy it."

Jeremiah forced himself to stand by pushing against the wall and sliding up. He watched in terror, knees shaking, as the homicidal maniac lowered the scythe's blade to his mouth and proceeded to lick the blood off of it. "Who-Who are you?!" He was terrified, but he also felt fury. He knew to concentrate on the latter, so he tried his best to cling to it.

The monster with bloodshot eyes tilted his head in mock confusion. "Oh, Arbitrator Scythe of the Seven Judges _at your command_!" He chuckled in giddy excitement. He smelled blood and dread. They were his favorite seasonings. He appeared almost vampire-like as blood dribbled from the corner of upturned lips. Keeping eyes locked on his target, he gripped the scythe's pole tightly with both hands and lifted the weapon over his head. "Now for the prosperity of Amestris, die!"

Jeremiah knew he hadn't recovered sufficiently to avoid the next strike. He heard Scythe's leather gloves groan as his balled his fists around the long shaft of his namesake weapon. He closed his eyes in anticipation. His life flashed before his eyes, something he believed was only a metaphorical creation of those who faced near-death experiences. He heard metal grate against metal and felt no pain.

He cracked his eyelids open to see his field of vision filled with blue. His eyes widened as he recognized the tall back he was staring at. His breath caught in his throat, and he felt relief wash over him. Jeremiah Twain was saved by none other than Lloyd Furr…and a steel pipe. The former knew he had no chance of defending himself. The latter had physical and martial arts training.

Scythe jumped away and rested his weapon on his shoulder. "My, my, I most certainly wasn't expecting visitors." He sensed his 'help' move from their position. It was likely Lance and Steel Claw were readying to move in and be of 'assistance' as Kingdom ordered. He did _not_ want them to take his kill. "I guess I'll just have to take you out, first."

Scythe lunged forward and swung his weapon at a downward diagonal. Lloyd had a firm grasp of his weapon in two hands, and hammered the pole arm away. Scythe was momentarily stunned as his arms nearly went numb, and Lloyd capitalized on the situation. He rushed in and wildly sung at his opponent's chest. There was no form; it was a beat down. After seconds which felt like hours, Scythe was sprawled out in a corner still tightly grasping his namesake.

Jeremiah staggered a step before falling back against the wall. He gave up on walking over to his friend and colleague and decided to thank him from where he was. "Thank you, Lloyd. If you hadn't come, I don't know what I would ha-…" He was interrupted when his defender signaled him to stand back.

In a flurry of motion, Scythe was not only back on his feet but furiously attacking Lloyd. The exchange this time around was even. Neither side held an advantage, but it was obvious Scythe was holding back. It was also obvious Lloyd was reaching his limit. When the two stopped, Scythe stood to one side of the hallway and showed no signs of fatigue. Lloyd, on the other hand, was sweating and nearly panting.

Scythe started laughing and clapping in the odd manner he seemed to enjoy. "This is _so_ sweet!" He reversed his grip on his namesake weapon and held it nearly straight out in front of him. It looked relatively awkward, but Lloyd recognized the defensive stance. With a scythe as a weapon, the blade edge was in excellent position to turn that defense into an offensive posture.

Lloyd sighed. He had hoped to avoid what he was about to do. He clapped his hands together and covered his throat with his right hand. He flowed that hand down his left collar, shoulder, and arm. After angling his wrist, he stretched his right arm out. His expression was pained as a black substance poured out and solidified into a long sword. About half a liter of his blood also flowed out and solidified along the edges, actually making it sharper.

A high-pitched, gleeful voice rang out. It was masculine which made it more disturbing, and it seemed to come from the sword. "I'm finally free! Let me feast, let me feast, let me feast!"

* * *

I find the scene with Lloyd...very much disturbing. I also made up Riza Hawkeye's father's name and nickname.

An interesting fact, a secret I haven't revealed about Lucifer recently became, at least partially, canonized in the manga. As a tidbit to chew on, I came up with the original concept for Lucifer in my original _Fate, Alchemy, and Bridges_ some years ago.

On a less than enthusiastic note, I can no longer find my resource for the _Full Metal Alchemist _ranking system; though, I'm pretty sure it's army-based. It probably doesn't matter at this point, but I have been trying to use it to no avail...

I appreciate comments and constructive criticism, but outright flames will be ignored.

Story Word Count: 10,110  
Story Page Count: 21


	6. Chapter 5: Creeping Shadows

S J Smith: Ah yes, I think that was the torture chapter. Ed meets Winry without his memory, and Al is left alone with Armstrong. Am I really that evil? Then again, I was watching the Sewing Life Alchemist episodes with Nina Tucker (Aw! Cute! Evil Shou Tucker!), and I was oddly reminded of the last chapter (Bunny and Calvin thank you for your evilness! You too, Cybil!) when Nina mischievously looked to Ed and asked if the prettily named Winry was his girlfriend. I died laughing...again. The fight scene between Lloyd and Scythe was infuriating to write, so I hope my fans enjoy it! Sick sword, just sick... One note, it's Isovar. He gets moody when people misspell/pronounce his name. Moody Isovar is difficult to deal with, believe you me.

* * *

**Creeping Shadows**

"I want to feast, feast, feast! Give me flesh, blood, bones!" The gleeful banter didn't die down. "Is that the enemy, foe, adversary?! Is that my meal, meal, meal?!" To any outside observer, it might appear as though the sword were…talking…to itself. "Hurry up and let me maim, kill, destroy! The flesh, I want to feast, feast, feast!"

In fact, Jeremiah didn't know what he was most disturbed by, the sword talking or seemingly talking to itself. He figured he knew why it seemed the sword was talking to itself. Ever since Lloyd attempted human alchemy, he'd lost the ability to use his vocal cords. Still, it didn't need to repeat something about a feast, gore, and killing over and over again.

Scythe still wore that bloodthirsty smirk of his, and he was soon flanked by two more unknowns. He regarded them for a second before introducing them by issuing commands. "Arbitrator Lance, I want you to watch my prey. Make sure he doesn't get away; he's mine." The one to his left nodded. "Arbitrator Steel Claw, I want to fight this guy myself. I'm sure Adjudicator Kingdom doesn't want this botched, so I guess you can step in if necessary." The one to his right nodded.

Lance was shorter than his lanky commander. His eyes were a dull green, and his mossy red hair was a chaotic mess barely kept out of his eyes by a headband. He had a decent build covered only by front armor. Though his back was only covered in earthen brown leather top and clothe bottom, the front of his body was in full plate mail.

Steel Claw hid her feminine features well. She had an underdeveloped bust to wide hips. It was difficult to tell with her baggy clothes, but her movements gave her away. It was obvious that padding was used to widen thus flatten her figure. Her eyes appeared purple, but closer inspection would reveal an even distribution of blue and red. Her skin tone and eyes revealed Ishvallan in her family tree, and her boyish hair was jet black.

With the pieces in place, Scythe finally evaluated his opponent. The accursed sword hadn't stopped blathering about some feast since it was summoned, but he caught onto some of its subtle conversation. It was evaluating the situation with Lloyd, so he decided to finally chime in on that seemingly one-way exchange. "Lloyd Furr, you are a member of the Counsel of Seven, and your alchemy is recognized by your peers. Though…tell me, when did you make a pact with the devil?"

It was a loose and insulting term, and it had the desired effect. Scythe knew, full well, there was a huge difference between a shadow and a devil. The sword immediately quieted, and, even without any form of facial feature, it felt like the implement of death was boring holes through his skull with a death glare. Then it screamed at the top of its proverbial lungs. "What did you just say dog, mongrel, mutt?!"

Scythe's malevolent grin grew until it nearly stretched across his face. "I called you a devil!" He reared his head back in raucous guffaws, delighted in the ego sting he delivered. "You're nothing but Gate spawn! You're so weak you can't even do as you please you have to…" He looked down when he felt a pain in his gut. His vicious grin dimmed for a second before he spread his arms out in another fit of laughter.

Steel Claw watched the entire exchange with nary a hint of emotion. Lance rolled his eyes. While lost in his litany of hurled insults, he lost focus on his adversary. In that moment, Lloyd plunged his talking long sword into Scythe's gut. Both hands held firm to the grip, and the sword was buried in to its hilt. The blade exited the bloodthirsty warrior's back.

"…rely on a human to do anything!" He finished his statement before continuing. Somehow, Scythe managed not to release his namesake as he grabbed his opponent's shoulders. They locked eyes, and a gleeful glint danced in the murderer's eyes. "This is so sweet! You're shadow is excellent! Strong! Superb!" Without another word, he dissolved into shadows, and the real fight began.

Nobody would probably ever believe Jeremiah…if he lived to retell the tale. To him, the very nature of the fight was beyond comprehension. He might have never even _heard_ of the Gate of Truth if he never served on the Amestris Consulate. Now, he was watching as a shadow incarnate faced off against a shadow host. There had to be rules against this sort of thing!

Lloyd gripped his talking long sword and swiftly flung it over his shoulder to intercept the curved edge of a scythe as it coalesced in a trajectory for his shoulder. Though he parried the blow, he was thrown forward and skidded to a stop. He looked up in time to see Scythe jump off the ceiling and prepare to smash the butt of the shaft through his new target's skull.

Actually, Jeremiah didn't even know how he was following the fight. He dared call it an epic battle! His body was in overdrive from an adrenaline rush. _"Yes…"_ He reasoned with himself. _"That has to be it. I'm just on a natural high."_ The shaft crashed into and through the floorboards seemingly dragging its wielder into the basement below. _"Oh please don't let me crash!"_

Lloyd spun around where he was; his sword was at the ready to block and either parry or counter a blow. He started skidding backwards for no discernable reason. He dug his feet in and gritted his teeth. He wasn't going to be able to stop. He plowed through the wall behind him, and he winced in obvious pain. His sword was screaming again. "Yes, now I'll have the chance to feast, feast, feast! Let me have flesh; let me have bone; let me have blood!"

He came to an abrupt stop, and dirt flew into the air to create a fine, dust screen. Without a moment's hesitation, he jumped to the rooftop to continue the face off. He stood at the peak of the roof only to look up at Scythe standing on the chimney. With whatever skill it was, he managed to keep a firm hold on his namesake as he clapped his hands in utter glee. "Sweet, this is so sweet!"

"Ugh… We're finally out of that stuffy area." Lloyd maintained his solemn expression as he watched Scythe. The madman was momentarily stunned before a scowl crept onto his face. The talking long sword actually sounded serious and wasn't madly blabbering about a feast. "You haven't changed at all, mutt."

Scythe's scowl deepened. "That voice…" He paused as he considered it. He most certainly did not like the implication. "You've sunk so low as to _barely_ even punish a human for stepping into our territory? You've even taken on that pitiful appearance? Blunt!" He screamed, but it wasn't his mad rage.

Blunt scoffed. "Humans are naturally curious; they often tread where they do not belong." Lloyd shifted his stance as he watched Scythe, his angry glare never shifting. "This mortal stumbled upon our home, and I took appropriate action. Unlike you, mutt, who took unauthorized action."

Scythe angrily swung his namesake in a wide arc as he screamed at his weapon-affixed adversary. "I'm doing what's necessary! These feeble mortals need to be shown their place! Nothing in the past has worked, and now we've found the way." Shadows gathered at his feet as he seethed. Jeremiah was no longer important. Lloyd and Blunt now stood in their way. "For the sake of Amestris and this world, die!"

The area grew pitch black. All an outside observer would see was a large shadow cast upon Jeremiah Twain's house, and sparks might shimmer from time to time. The shadows which gathered, however, were too thick for those walking the streets to see through. It was meant to obscure the reality of a battle between shadows from prying eyes. The only mortal to witness the first shadow clash was Lloyd.

Scythe jumped from the chimney with his namesake trailing him. He had a madman's glee in his eyes as he arched the blade diagonally across his body. The business end of his weapon barely cut his opponent's jacket as he leapt back. The shadow with bloodshot eyes stuck his tongue out as he watched the Alchemist skidded to a halt some feet back.

As Lloyd landed, he spread his feet and bent his knees. He needed to be able to move quickly. When his adversary disappeared into the shadows, he clapped his hands together to complete the alchemic energy. He ducked and rolled to avoid being decapitated as a scythe appeared out of thin air. As he rolled, he touched his free hand to the rooftop and pulled carbon from the tiles to create a strong, flexible shield which wrapped his arm.

He made the shield just in time, too. Scythe coalesced from the shadows on his left and scraped his namesake against the newly formed protection. It still sent vibrations through his body as he felt the blunt force. He grimaced as he realized how bad the bruising would be. His adversary didn't waste any time in twisting in midair and falling, shaft leading.

Lloyd jumped out of the way before sending a powerful uppercut into his gut. As air left his adversary's lungs, he sliced his sword heavily at his mid back. The hit never connected as the blade buried itself in the roof. He looked around, knowing he had to press the attack. Blunt was none too happy. "We almost had that mutt, Lloyd!"

Behind them, Scythe melted out of the side of the chimney. The lust for blood was evident on his face as he brought his namesake to bear. He brought it down in a smashing blow in an attempt to sever his opponent's spine. An eruption of blood brought a smirk to his face. "Sweet, this is so sweet! I never thought I'd have such a skilled target!"

Lloyd managed to turn at the last second and send his shield arm to intercept. The blow was so powerful that he would have screamed in pain if he had a voice. He jumped back to inspect his wound. The scythe managed to cut through the hardened carbon and slice open the skin underneath. He did not like the situation, and Blunt voiced the opinion. "He's fast, but that's because the shadow has completely taken over the host. There isn't a speck of humanity left."

Scythe released malevolent laughter as he slapped his hand against his forehead. "Oh, that's rich! It's almost as if you're saying any lowly human _deserves_ to witness our might!" His eyes closed as his raucous laughter continued. "In all my years, I never once thought Blunt would become so _soft_!"

Lloyd didn't wait for the sanctimonious speech to end. He rushed forward with more speed than he showed before and drove his long sword, Blunt, forward. He was aiming for the heart, but his adversary noticed and stepped to the side. Instead, it punctured a lung, and blood was running down his chin; though, his grin seemed to grow impossibly wider. Blunt spoke seriously. "He's not human. No need to hold back."

Scythe's eyes showed a moment of surprise as he felt the blade twist in his chest. He knew the words of his hated nemesis were meant for his human host, but he couldn't believe that a human was _holding back_ while fighting at such a level. He felt the blade in his chest tense, and he disappeared into shadows before the horizontal slice cut him in two.

Lloyd finished the slice he already dedicated himself to before kicking off from where he was standing. The scythe sliced where he was standing before disappearing. It sliced where he moved to, but he kept running. The scythe kept appearing to slice then disappearing, and he was forced to run up the chimney before arching his back and somersaulting backwards.

His eyes narrowed, and he expertly twirled in midair to bring his sword to bear with the tip leading. He heard a gasp as Scythe melted from the rooftop. His lips twitched as he kicked his opponent and clutched his side where the sword penetrated his kidney. _"He detected me just as I was about to emerge and strike? Blunt wasn't joking when he said he was holding back."_

He did a quick check up of his physical condition. His internal organs didn't really matter, but his body wouldn't hold out in a fight if he didn't let them regenerate properly. His lung was slowly but surely closing up, but his kidney was a mess. His breaths were coming out in grunts, and his heart was beating, as the expression goes, a hundred miles and hour. He tried to evaluate his opponent.

Lloyd wasn't honestly doing much better. Though the carbon armor was doing its job, the bones in his upper arm were broken in three places. The point of impact was shattered, and he was only maintaining use of the arm thanks to the shield and Blunt. His breathing was little better than his adversary's, but the reason was exertion. He tensed and charged again.

Scythe's gleeful smirk returned again as shadows swirled around him, and he disappeared from sight. His opponent spun around and swatted his namesake away with that carbon armored arm. When he countered with his sword, he spun his scythe to knock it off course with the shaft. He was no longer taking the shadow host lightly.

Lloyd scowled at the shadow incarnate as his blade was thrown off course, and he was forced to tuck and roll to the side to avoid another decapitating swing. As he came to his feet, he lunged with his sword tip leading only for his adversary to melt away. He barely felt a sharp pain in his shoulder before spinning and driving his blade to its cross guard.

Scythe's gleeful expression turned murderous as he felt Blunt clip his heart. His lips parted as far as they could to bear his clenched teeth, and he heavily swung his namesake after reversing his grip under his opponents carbon armored arm. As he started to pull up, he felt the blade twist inside his chest once more.

Lloyd felt the sharp edge under his armpit, so he quickly sliced his blade diagonally down to cut as many of his adversary's innards as possible. This time, blood poured forth as an extensive gap separated a large portion of his ribcage. He managed to twist away from the scythe before losing his arm, but it blood spilled down his own clothes from the open wound.

Scythe was mad. No, he was beyond mad. He was seething, livid, enraged, furious, and not to forget incensed. He was more injured than any Alchemist had right to injure him, and worst of all Blunt was helping him! He managed to hold his body together as he gathered shadows to regenerate the damaged tissue. He reached out his free hand to point his fingers at his adversary. "Now die!"

"Get out of the way, Lloyd!" Blunt yelled, and Lloyd obeyed. He dove out of the way and rolled up just in time to block an incoming and rapidly expanding finger claw with his long sword. He pushed himself off his knees to his feet and quickly ran. Sufficiently satisfied with his positioning, he clapped his hands without dropping his sword and crouched to touch both hands to the rooftop.

Scythe roared as a wide wall sprouted from the roof to impede his attack. Though his extending fingered claws easily penetrated the barrier, he couldn't see his opponent to deal the death blow. His heart was ringing in his ears as he ran forward, barely avoiding exploding tiles behind him.

Blunt spoke quietly to Lloyd. "I never imagined he'd pull out Homunculus powers to use on us. We're at a real disadvantage with only alchemy. You have to keep him busy to buy time to puncture his heart." He nodded in agreement with his sword as he rounded the chimney to find his adversary already moving. He knew both of them looked haggard, and protracting the fight wasn't helping.

He rushed again, but Scythe heard his footsteps and turned around. He pointed extended his fingered claws again, but his opponent managed to duck to the side. He smirked as he embedded the attack in the chimney before propelling himself forward. He easily swung his namesake his stunned target.

Lloyd was surprised by two things. One, his adversary no longer had a gash. Though he was covered by blood and obviously still pained by internal injury, there were no external indications. Two, he was moving rapidly towards him. He brought his sword to bear just in time to deflect a lot of the attack's momentum, but the blunt side of his blade crashed into his face.

He rose quickly, ignoring the split lip, broken nose, and…swollen eye. Oh, a bad eye was a disadvantage he didn't need! Scythe took immediate advantage of his opponent's blind side. Even with Blunt helping him, reaction time was sure to be slow. He was right. An upward slice was barely deflected in time. The following downward slice cut a deep gash in the carbon armor. A horizontal lunge from the shaft was sent wide but still managed to crack a rib.

Scythe jumped back and aimed his fingered claws at Lloyd's jugular veins and carotid arteries. He intended to sound his death knell. His attack halfway to connecting, Blunt cried out. "Lloyd, duck behind the chimney!" Scythe clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as his opponent did just that. He knew he couldn't alter the trajectory of his attack, so he withdrew his fingered claws and decided to leisurely walk to his opponent's _very_ temporary sanctuary.

He tapped the shaft of his namesake against his shoulder and decided to make small talk. "You know, Blunt; I'm surprised you came all this way without support." He heard nothing and sniggered. "You can't sense me, and a host always loses to an incarnate." His gleeful expression returned. "You gave me a real run for my money, but it's over now. Lloyd Furr's body is at its limit, and he will die knowing Jeremiah Twain is next."

Scythe barely disappeared into the shadows as he felt the tip of Blunt penetrate his side aiming to lacerate his abdominal organs. He coalesced on the edge of the roof with a hand clamped over the fresh wound, and he was sending an icy glower to the human who seemed to have gained a second wind. _"What is _with_ this host?! He's getting up _again_?!"_ He was at a loss as his opponent charged once more, too tired to set his mind on form.

Lloyd fought through blurred vision intent on one thing. He was going to take out the shadow even if it meant his own life. He was sure the rooftop fight had drawn attention. He was sure Alchemists or other shadow hosts had sensed _something_ at least. He only hoped no more shadow incarnates would show up. It was bad enough two were observing Jeremiah. No, one was observing their fight.

Scythe was also too tired to worry about form. He melted into the roof and out of the nearby chimney. He felt searing pain as freshly minted spikes jutted out of the rooftop tiles and protruded through his body at odd angles. They were so fresh he could still see the alchemic energy arcing across them. One had barely missed his heard, but the rest of his organs were a mess. His head was the only part of his body totally missed.

Lloyd fell back onto his rear as he tried to catch his breath. His eyes were clenched shut as a migraine threatened to leave him unconscious. He wasn't getting enough oxygen to continue fighting at the rate they were. He managed to open one eye to spy his adversary. The sight was not pretty.

Scythe's teeth were chattering; his body was cold from blood loss. His body was convulsing as muscles and brain fought desperately for oxygen. Though he had destroyed the human mind and improved the body, he was still subject to some of the more human laws.

The spikes, created through alchemy, held him aloft. They penetrated his body at multiple locations. The tops of several spikes held his organs outside his body. A lung was divided into three as bits and pieces slowly dripped down the spike it hung from. His intestines literally wrapped another spike which held his liver like a trophy. Stomach acid ate at the same spike, and it was obvious other organs from his abdomen were either liquefied or jammed oddly in his body.

He tried to speak, but blood and pieces of lung dribbled down his chin. He coughed up blood, only still breathing with one, good lung…if it could be called that. It had been punctured earlier on, and it still wasn't completely healed. His vision blurred as he watched Lloyd fight to stand. He was wobbly on his feet, but his condition was most certainly better.

Halfway to finishing his adversary, he was greeted by a site he was only slightly surprised to see. Steel Claw, who had oddly held back the entire fight, coalesced in front of him. He barely brought his sword to defend himself against a barrage of her namesake. He was pushed back until he was on the edge of the roof before she somersaulted backwards to land next to Scythe.

She eyed him with disdain. "Is this what you call handling it, Arbitrator Scythe? Adjudicator Kingdom sent us to handle Jeremiah Twain, and I see now why he sent us with you." Her tone was cross, and she held no sympathy when he coughed up more blood and bits of lung. In fact, she scoffed before she proceeded to demolish the spikes to let him down.

She sent an ice cold glower to Lloyd. "I recognize your stench, Blunt. I'm impressed your host lasted this long, but the incarnate you fought still lives." She returned her attention to Scythe. "As for you, we're still under your command. As much as I hate to admit it, we can't kill Amestris Consulate Member Jeremiah Twain without your orders. What are your orders, Arbitrator Scythe?"

Steel Claw frowned when he shook his head to affirm her suspicions. He still wanted to kill the philosopher on his own. She relented without a word and turned to Lloyd. "However, I am under no such obligation with you." She dropped Scythe unceremoniously to the ground and rushed Lloyd with her namesake at the ready. She was going to ensure at least one member of the Amestris Consulate died.

His face solemnly set, he clapped his hands together one last time. He only had enough energy left for one alchemic reaction, and it was most certainly not one strong enough to kill. He set both hands on the rooftop, and large ripple centered on him. As it expanded out, pockets of gas exploded to knock everything they touched off the roof. As Steel Claw and Scythe disappeared into the night sky, Lloyd fell unconscious, and Blunt melted into blood as a sliver of shadow entered his body.

On the streets below, Lance exited the house and leapt after his fellow shadow incarnates. He couldn't believe what condition they were in after fighting a mere shadow host. Scythe was only alive because his heart hadn't been punctured, and Steel Claw had bad burns along the right side of her body. Both could be healed, but he didn't want to guess how General Kelly Westford or Adjudicator Kingdom were going to respond.

Steel Claw was able to walk on her own, so she wrestled free from Lance's grip. She was about to turn back to finish off Lloyd when the obvious reaction to a seeming terrorist attack in the heart of a residential district occurred. The military police and regular police were swarming Jeremiah Twain's house to check for survivors and terrorists. Their minds made up, they fled the scene to lick their wounds and hope they still had their heads by morning.

* * *

A beautiful voice of baritone, near tenor, serenaded one Sarah Plyler…if one were to believe the lyrics. A buxom and conservatively dressed brunette sat across from a much younger Lloyd Furr. Her dress was long and formal; she was likely from a rich family. Her hair was piled in curls, and she shaded herself with a petite umbrella. Her cheeks were rosy as she listened to the heartfelt tune.

They were young, and they were in love. She longingly gazed at the engagement ring he gave her not two days ago when he sang of her purity. She sent him a pout as the blush spread when he mentioned her naughtier tendencies. She loved him, mind, body, and soul. She was going to marry him! As the song ended, the scene shifted.

The streets smelled of fires and rotted corpses. A deadly plague swept across the city of Serenity Falls. It was a city in the Southern region of Amestris, near the Aelgo border. Many suspected guerilla Aelgo fighters for bringing the plague to Serenity Falls, but Lloyd didn't care one bit about that.

He held the frail, cold hands of his beloved Sarah as she lay dying of the horrible disease. Her limbs were cold because her body stopped sending blood to her extremities to conserve body heat and precious oxygen for the more important organs. Even if she survived, some or all of her limbs might be amputated due to gangrene. It was a horrible disease, and no doctors seemed able to cure it.

Desperate, he begged her parent's to view their extensive library. The Plyler family was the largest land owner in Serenity Falls. Several generations ago, their ancestors founded the tourist trap near a great fall's basin. As an Alchemist, he instinctively knew the pillar of alchemy was knowledge. Even if he found no books on alchemy, he was sure his research would turn up something!

His research was corrupted, however, by his despair over his fiancée's state and his desire to save her. He soon turned his attention to a forbidden science, the art of human transmutation. He studied for hours on human biology and cellular makeup. He dove into research articles on bacteria and viruses. Even if they were primitive studies, they were enough for his keen mind to figure out once on the surgery table.

The scene again shifted to a funeral procession. Lloyd could not even attend his own fiancée's funeral because he was in the hospital. He was attended by local Alchemists and a single State Alchemist. His neck was wrapped in bloodied bandages, and he wept the passing of his beloved fiancée, Sarah. He would never see Sarah Plyler again.

The scene once again shifted. Sarah was standing behind the open doors of the Gate of Truth. Lloyd Furr stood on the other side. He knew he could not enter. He tried years ago to follow her in and bring her back. She smiled at him even as shadow hands surrounded her. However, none touched her as she wasn't trying to escape, and he wasn't trying to rescue her.

He placed his hand over his throat, unsure if he could talk even in his dream. He nearly wept at her words. "I love you, Lloyd. Please, move on with your life. I…I want you to be happy." She tilted her head to one side and smiled that sweet smile of hers. It was the smile that always melted his heart.

"I…" His eyes widened as fresh tears streamed from his eyes. "I love you, Sarah! With all my heart, I've always loved you, and I always will." His smile faltered when a negative image of him stepped beside her. He _knew_ the negative of himself was Blunt. He wore a neutral expression as he watched.

She noticed his presence, too, but ignored it. Instead, she fought back tears as she made her selfish request. The dream would only last a little while longer, and she wanted to do anything she could to cheer him up. "Please, Lloyd… Sing me that song you wrote for me…"

He closed his eyes and composed himself. If he was going to sing for his beloved in the one place he could sing to her, he was _not_ going to allow his voice to crack. In the beautiful tenor/baritone she remembered, she serenaded her. Her cheeks were rosy, and she responded to each verse the same way she always did and appropriate to the words.

Lloyd loved Sarah. He loved her, and he could never hold her. He loved her, and he condemned himself for her. He loved her, and he hated what he tried to do to her. He loved her, and she forgave him for his transgressions so many years ago. He loved her, and he broke into fresh tears as his serenade ended and the dream faded.

* * *

Ed opened his eyes and blinked. He was surrounded by a sea of white. It was so bright he had to cover his eyes to shade himself. Then he heard a phrase for the life of him he never thought he'd hear again. Okay, why was it so familiar? "Hello, little big brother…"

He shot up to a seated position, his arms between his legs. He stared, blinked, and stared some more. Standing in front of a giant, closed door stood an auburn haired preteen or teenager, likely around thirteen. Her hair was braided into two pigtails to either side. Her eyes like sapphire orbs shone down on him, and he felt tears sting his eyes. Why was it so familiar?!

"It's okay little big brother." She knelt down to wrap her arms around him. Instinctively, he reciprocated as his tears became sobs. Why was it so familiar? "Don't you remember me, little big brother?" He shook his head. Why was it so familiar, and why wasn't he mad about being called short or small? "There, there, little big brother, Nina's here to comfort you."

He hugged her petite form closer to him. Why was it so familiar?! "I'm sorry." Why was he sorry? "I couldn't protect you." What couldn't he protect her from? He felt her hand tug at something by his side, and he looked down to see her pull a pocket watch from his red jacket. Why was it so familiar?

He hesitantly released her as she gently pulled away. Her smile was gentle and serene. "You promised you'd come play with me, little big brother. I was so happy when you did, but daddy did something awful and made you cry." His head jerked with memories of a bloody corpse. Why was it so familiar?!

His eyes locked on the pocket watch when he heard it snap open. He saw an inscription, and his mind was filled with the sight of another bloody corpse. Nina was almost crying as he was engulfed in painful memories. "It's okay, little big brother. I'm here to help you. You tried to help me, so let me help you." She paused and put on the brightest smile she could muster. Why was it so familiar?! "I love my big brothers, so little big brother is very important!"

It might have been the intense pain from the surgery where Winry attached his nerves to automail limbs. It might have been the painful memories the far too familiar girl was flooding his mind with. It might have been a combination from both, but Ed lurched forward only to land on his elbows and knees. His hands cupped his face and he cried into them in sheer pain and anguish.

Nina knelt beside him and patted his shoulders. "I'm sorry, little big brother. I don't want to bring you pain, but those memories are part of what make you who you are." A familiar, mischievous smirk spread across her eyes and lit her eyes. She repeated the exact question she asked him around eight years prior. "Winry's a pretty name. Is she your girlfriend, little big brother?"

He looked at her with a tear stained face. His eyes were filled with surprise though still fresh with pain, and a part of him wanted to jump up and down and deny the very accusation. He knew why it was so familiar. His lips quivered as he tried to speak, but she placed a finger over them to shush him and answer. "Of course, you'll deny what's so obvious on your heart. Of course little big brother, your good memories also make you who you are. You're you, and nothing will change little big brother."

He hung his head. How could he ever forget this familiar feeling? His life was full of memories he'd rather forget, but she reminded him of how their complexity created him, Edward Elric the Full Metal Alchemist and dog of the state. He was called a hero of the people. He reached out and grasped Nina's shoulders before pulling her into a tight hug.

With him kneeling, she was a head taller. She leaned into him and rubbed his shoulder. "Nina, I'm sorry I couldn't help you." She smiled and almost spoke, but he was faster. "I had my suspicions, but I couldn't stop Shou Tucker in time." He still cursed that name, the Sewing Life Alchemist.

"Daddy was…Daddy was confused…" She loved her parents; she really did. She didn't understand what her father did and couldn't hate him for it, but she was put through so much pain her chimera body instinctively found a way to die. She rubbed his back. "Daddy was confused, but daddy helped little big brother grow stronger."

He scoffed, but he was forced to concede. He cursed the man's name, but it built his own character to set strict lines on what alchemy was and wasn't for. He was about to say something, but he noticed she wasn't in his grip anymore, and she again shushed him by placing her finger on his lips. "I'm here to help little big brother remember and not dwell in the past."

She suddenly spun around and struck a pose only a young teenager could. He almost spit laughter as she added the obvious phrase. "Besides, little big brother needs to tell me I'm beautiful." It was obvious she was looking for some sort of approval from her elder brother rather than anything else.

He shook her head as a smile finally appeared on his face. What was with the girls in his life? First Rose then Nina, they were able to make him dance in the palm of their hands emotionally. When he thought about it, Winry was a far more powerful and, in a sense, terrifying force than either. Inwardly, he nervously chuckled.

Ed's distant gaze brought a pout to Nina's face. He sheepishly rubbed the back of his head as he remembered her sort of question. "Ah sorry…" He looked at her for a moment. She wore the clothes he was familiar with; though, they were fitted to her teenage body. He smiled so wide his eyes closed. "Yeah, you look beautiful." He scratched his chin and looked to the sky. "I remember when you were just a cute little five year old."

She watched him smile happily at having his memories returned, but her smile was sad. He was regaining consciousness, and she knew she wasn't going to have the opportunity to see him again. She felt lucky and overjoyed that she got to see him again and help him. Her voice wavered and cracked as she spoke her mind. "I-If li-little b-b-big brother were my da-da-daddy, I wouldn't m-mind being re-re-reborn."

He looked up, wide eyed as she began to fade from his vision. No, he was the one fading. The Gate of Truth was slowly opening, and she was being pulled inside. He reached out his hand, but an inescapable force was pulling him back. She smiled and waved, tears in her eyes. "Goodbye little big brother!"

* * *

Ed awoke with a start and in a cold sweat as he threw his arm into the air. He felt like he was trying to catch something, and he felt a sudden resistance he wasn't really expecting. He turned his attention to whatever was soft and warm in his hand only to wish he hadn't. He was reminded of Psyren, only Winry punished him for groping her breast.

Calvin and Cybil ran in just in time to see what caused the big commotion. Winry was holding her wrench and standing over Ed with a murderous glint in her eyes. He looked broken as he lie on the floor, twitching in his half-conscious state. The twins declined comment as they backed slowly out of the room.

Rose was a step behind them and watched as they retreated. She gasped when she saw what condition Ed was in, but Winry was already helping him off the floor. He was nursing the lump on his head as he berated his childhood friend. "Why'd you have to go and do that, Winry? It's not like I did that on purpose!"

Winry's eyebrow twitched. She couldn't believe how violently she had reacted that quickly and without really thinking. She knew he was having a nightmare and had placed a cool clothe on his forehead when he suddenly jerked up and grabbed her… "I'm sorry, all right?" She sighed. "I overreacted, but what do you expect a girl to do?"

Ed exhaled sharply through his teeth. "I got less pulverized for almost seeing you naked!" He closed his eyes and pushed his head against the pillow never realizing the looks of astonishment on the two girls' faces. After a protracted silence which was unlike Winry, he cracked open an eye to spy them. "What?"

Rose smiled and leaned against the doorframe. Oh, what fun was she going to have? "Really, Ed? You've _almost_ seen her naked, and you _remember_ this _almost_ event?" She resisted a good laugh at the beet red faces they sported, but the implication finally sunk in.

Ed went from flush red to sickly blue in a matter of seconds. Winry leapt at him and pulled him into a tight embrace. "You're finally back!" Desperate for air, he tried to get her off…until she pushed off his shoulder and looked sternly into his face. "You're not just going to up and leave again; are you?!" Her eyes wavered with forming tears.

He opened his mouth to make a comment about how moody she was…but thought better of it. He heaved a sigh before tilting his head to one side and smiling. "I'm staying on this side of the Gate at least." Her expression told him she wanted a different answer. "Um, what?"

She sat up on the edge of the bed with her back to him. Why was he so infuriatingly incorrigible?! She didn't want him to see her expression even as her voice cracked. "You go off and get yourself hurt again. I was worried." She paused. "Worried, Ed!" She crossed her arms over her abdomen and willed herself not to look at him. "The last time I saw you…I fixed your automail only to see you run off to fight some otherworldly flying craft."

She fought back tears as she forced herself to continue. He tried to reach out, but his hand stalled because he knew he was the reason for her distress. "Then you tell _Roy_ to say goodbye to me for you!" She turned to him with tears streaked down her face and a pain expression. "I thought I was never going to see you again!"

There was an uncomfortable silence when she admitted her fears. He had to admit; he had the same fears. The very trepidation of not seeing her again gave him pause before leaving. He only continued back through the gate because he felt abandoning that other world would be stooping to the same level as all the Alchemists he fought against, like Dante or Shou Tucker. "Look Winry, I…"

"No!" He was taken aback by her adamant refusal. "No Ed, you listen!" He swallowed hard as she leaned towards him. Despite himself, he found his eyes gazing a little _too_ south. Oh sure, he could still see her face. She didn't seem to notice as she continued. "Am I so unimportant to you that you'd abandon me…?" She paused and shook her head. "Is _this_ world so unimportant that you'd abandon everyone in it to follow some selfish goal?! I could understand your desire for the Philosopher's Stone because, despite everything I said about how great automail is, I supported you in getting your bodies back to normal."

He waited for her to pause before answering. "At first, I just saw it as an opportunity to fix one of my mistakes. I thought I couldn't come back, so I just followed what clues I had. When I came back, I was real tempted to stay…" She leaned in further, and he tried burying himself deeper in the pillow.

"…but why didn't you?!" She was obviously upset, and she wanted answers. She had missed her boys so much, and she had missed him most of all. She had no room to deny it, and she wanted to hear his reasons.

He gently placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back. He needed some breathing room, so he sat up. "I found out something that terrified me. The Gate is more than just alchemic knowledge. It connects the two worlds and transfers energy between them. If that explosion I saw went off, there would be huge repercussions in this world. Winry, I did it for everybody in this world."

Rose wore a small smile as she pushed herself off the doorframe. She had been silent to give the two some time to do what all lovebirds do, but she wanted to ask questions she was sure her friend wouldn't. "What kind of repercussions are you talking about, Ed?" She couldn't keep a slight tremble out of her voice. She had a child, and she would protect him with everything she had.

He sighed, and his face contorted into an uneasy expression. "To tell the truth, I'm not too sure." He didn't like the skeptical looks he was getting. "First of all, the explosion I saw would have killed hundreds of thousands, if not more. Second, it's impossible to predict what kind of effect that much energy would have. Like I said, at first I was just trying to make amends."

Rose spoke before Winry could ask another question. "You've been having nightmares ever since I found you in that outside Lior. You have any memories of it this time?" She had been curious about what had been frightening him ever since the first time she saw him awake in a cold sweat.

Ed looked distraught as he angled his head down. He remembered the dream only too vividly. "N-Nina just told me to wake up and become my old self." His fists and jaw clenched. The little girl managed to save him again.

Winry knew the name, and her eyes went wide. She never got to meet the spunky five year old, but she heard plenty about her. In Ed's words, her own father murdered her. She gently placed a hand on his shoulder. _"Such a traumatic memory… Did it jar him out of his amnesia?"_

Rose didn't know who Nina was, but she recognized the look on his face. She was somebody important, and he blamed himself for her death. Still, she was curious. When _did_ he regain his memories? Was it just the dream? Was it the painful automail surgery? Was it the rather painful aftereffects of his waking up and groping Winry? Perhaps it was some combination of the three, but they would never know. In truth, they were just happy he had regained his memories.

Rose watched Ed and Winry for a few moments more before walking into the entryway. As she made her way to the door, she picked up the suite key, and she twirled it around her finger as she quietly opened and closed the door. Outside, she saw Calvin and Cybil huddle nearby; they looked at her expectantly.

"Let's let those two catch up; shall we? They haven't had the chance to have a good, long conversation in years, so you two are coming with me. I have some shopping to do." The twins looked at each other and nodded. They weren't about to disturb their master, and they noticed she looked brighter than she ever had. Sure, she was still violent, but her spirits were certainly higher.

Bunny watched from down the hallway. She had the same general idea. Ed and Winry needed time to catch up. She was just sticking close by to make sure her friends didn't, well, find each other's company a little too enticing.

* * *

Lloyd slowly opened his eyes while making a noise as close to a groan as he could. He looked to his side and noticed Alan Kingston was leaning against the far wall. Noticing his fellow Consulate member back with the world of the living, he approached. "That was dangerous, Lloyd."

He watched the Alchemist roll his eyes before he continued. "We've known each other for a long time. Don't you think you could have fought defensively until help arrived?" He noticed the glare he was receiving. "Oh, don't give me that look! None of us would have wanted Jeremiah to die, but you're important, too. Besides, do you know what condition you're in?"

"Yes, I've looked at the doctor's report." They both looked to the open doorway to see Lieutenant General Jack Daniels. He was flipping through pages on a clipboard. "You have multiple compound fractures, cracked and broken ribs, bruised ribs, internal injuries and ruptures, multiple burns, lacerations, broken nose, and a punctured lung." He paused and put the clipboard down. "Even with the record-breaking surgery with State Alchemists, you should have been out for days or weeks or longer."

Alan narrowed his eyes. "Just what are you implying, Lieutenant General?" He had fought hard to keep the military from digging too far into Lloyd's past at Serenity Falls. He swept his arm over the broken Alchemist to indicate him as he spoke. "This man's a hero. He managed to fight off a terrorist bent on killing a Consulate member _in his own home_!"

Daniels nodded. "I'm not disputing that, and the Seven Judges certainly worry me. However, I am under obligation to inform you we military dogs aren't as stupid as you believe. Tell me Lloyd, does the name Sarah Plyler ring any bells?" The reaction was instant. Lloyd seemed subdued as he lowered his head. "I thought so."

Alan was in Daniels' face. "What, exactly, are you implying Lieutenant General?" He angled his face menacingly. "Do not forget that the military depends on the Kingston family."

Daniels rolled his eyes. "Don't be such a drama queen." He laughed at the expressions he received from Lloyd and Alan. "I'm not going to push such a valuable person off the Consulate. Rather if I had known beforehand, I could have better prepared." He stopped when he noticed Lloyd writing on a paper pad.

He walked over to take the sheet offered to him and read it carefully. "I have no intention of telling anybody how you attempted to save your fiancée. I only looked into your past because you contain something few who have seen the Gate of Truth have, fewer still who maintain their personality."

Alan looked to the military Consulate member skeptically. "How much do you know about the Gate, really? You seemed awfully interested in it when Riza then Roy were 'on trial', but you never really seemed surprised. From my perspective, you seemed to know as much as Lloyd here…"

The implication was not missed. Daniels chuckled. "Oh no, I haven't tried any forbidden alchemy. I may be more skilled than my master, but I don't even compare to prodigies like Lloyd, Mustang, Elric, or the like." He noticed Lloyd writing something else.

He accepted the sheet when it was handed to him. "Oh…" He cooed. "Is that so? A true prodigy can avoid the shadow's grasp altogether…" His statement sounded like a question as he read back what his fellow Alchemist wrote. It meant he recognized Edward Elric as his superior in skill.

He was about to say something else when a loud crash reverberated through the hallways. Daniels rushed into the corridor, and his heart almost froze when he saw smoke rising from the elevator shaft at the end of the hall. He saw a few faces sticking out doorways to see what the commotion was about, and many expressions were horrified. The idea that an elevator would crash was unheard of, in a hospital unfathomable.

When he reached the open doors, he peered in. His expression contorted into rage as he noticed something amiss. The strong, steel cable which raised and lowered the elevator cart showed split ends only evident in something being cut. He rushed down the nearest staircase to the site of the crash to find out if his suspicions were right.

Even the trained medical staff had to look away from the horrible site within. Two people were inside, a man and a woman. Sadly, Lieutenant General Jack Daniels recognized the both of them. One was Consulate Member Jeremiah Twain. The other was one of the Consulate's female secretaries. He thought her name might be Sally Holt.

It was obvious Jeremiah tried to protect her. His body took the brunt of the damage, but her neck was bent in an unnatural direction. While he suffered massive internal damage and bled out, her neck snapped. Perhaps she got the more merciful end. Although, he was _supposed_ to be resting in his hospital room.

Daniels controlled his anger and turned to the nearest nurse. "Do you know what he was doing out of his room?" He fought down the accusatory tone. He knew Jeremiah could be willful, and the hospital was in no way responsible for the accident. If anything, the military police would be responsible for not defending the place as well as they should have.

The nurse looked around for help. She looked green in the face, like she was ready to throw up. She was obviously new, and the fresh corpses may have been her first experience with death. Another nurse stepped up. She was portly and kind faced. "The patient's injuries weren't serious, and he wished to visit a friend on one of the upper floors. We…saw no reason to stop him."

Daniels sighed. "Yes, hindsight is a wonderful thing." The nurse looked down. "Don't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault. This was no accident, and I intend to get to the bottom of this." He swallowed an uncomfortable feeling before continuing. "Don't move the bodies. The military police will handle this. Just keep this area cleared, please…"

The doctors and nurses nodded and set about barricading the area off. Daniels felt sick because two people he worked with had died. Sure, he didn't exactly know Sally or other secretaries very well, but the Consulate Secretarial Office was still part of the Consulate. _"Just what are the Seven Judges up to? I need to get more information out of Lloyd…"_ He slowly began the march back upstairs.

* * *

Major Alex Louis Armstrong was loyal almost to a fault. As soon as he had recovered Alphonse Elric, he rushed the young boy to a safety zone and put in a call to the newly appointed Lieutenant General Roy Mustang. He was told Mustang was busy, but he was certain his message would be delivered. Though only a Major, he was still a State Alchemist. Even Lieutenant Colonels and Colonels were careful not to get on the bad side of such an esteemed personage.

He talked with Al for a bit and discovered much of what the young Alchemist had been up to for the months he was gallivanting around in another world with his brother. They had, somehow, managed to stay out of trouble, and Armstrong couldn't help wonder what state the world was in from the narrow perspective Al drew.

They sat down to a fine dinner. Though the emergency had more or less passed, citizens were still wary of the new arrivals. Armstrong decided to keep the younger Elric close by, and the preteen was soon fast asleep. The Strong Arm Alchemist laid the young Alchemist on a bed in a nearby room and closed the door. He remained awake to await word on just what was going on.

It didn't take long for Mustang to arrive. Having heard an urgent request from one of his loyal friends, he took Hawkeye and rushed over. "I have important business to attend to, so I hope this is important, Major." In a safety shelter, he decided to keep things formal for prying ears.

Armstrong understood and nodded his head. "Of course Lieutenant General, I wouldn't call you out here otherwise. I don't know how, but I stumbled upon an acquaintance as I was escorting civilians in town today." He waved his hand to invite Mustang and Hawkeye to follow him. He gently cracked the door open and heard the surprised sounds he was expecting.

As he closed the door, Mustang spoke in hushed tones. "Does anybody else know?" His friend shook his head, and the Flame Alchemist took up his thoughtful pose as he cupped his chin between thumb and forefinger. "This is too much to be a coincidence. Where's the other one?"

Armstrong shook his head. "I only ran into him during the evacuation. They seem to have been separated. They have an amazing tale to tell." Interested, Mustang beckoned the Strong Arm Alchemist to continue. Mustang and Hawkeye listened to Armstrong retell what Al told him earlier.

Mustang smirked as he came to fully realize how good a position he was in. He turned his attention to Hawkeye. "It seems Lady Luck hasn't given up on us just yet. Armstrong, I want you to work with Al and the Consulate while I deal with our visitors from Corsair. I have a sneaking suspicion General Westford is going to make a move soon. Things aren't going well for him, and my gut's telling me something's fishy."

Armstrong nodded. "Of course Lieutenant General, I'll do what I can." He saluted and waited for Mustang to salute him back and drop it before he did the same. After a moment of silence, he had one last question. "Should we look for him?"

Mustang shook his head as his smirk broadened. "No, I have a feeling he'll find us soon enough. Besides, our new spy master managed to get a headstrong automail mechanic to come to town. If I know our shrimp, they'll meet up before long. We just need to sit back and let the fireworks happen on their own."

Hawkeye rolled her eyes before following Mustang out the door. Armstrong looked in on Al one last time before turning in for the night, himself. If things kept going like they were and Mustang was right as he usually was, things were going to heat up very soon.

* * *

General Kelly Westford was nearly blue in the face as he watched two of his Seven Judges being attended to. Steel Claw was injured because of _Scythe's _insubordination. He looked directly at the subordinate who failed him. "Would you care to explain your failure to kill Jeremiah Twain _in his house_ as was planned?"

Scythe clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth. "Hey, at least he's dead. I don't like killing like a coward. That elevator stunt you made me pull was so not sweet." He didn't even flinch when the old man slammed his fists onto his own desk…hurting himself in the process. In fact, he sniggered.

Kingdom looked to Westford. "Scythe has redeemed himself. Though our opponents are aware of the Seven Judges' existence, they should be in fear of ignorance. They do not know who supports them or why they target Consulate members. If anything, his blunder may allow us to speed up operations."

As Westford nursed his hands, he considered his right hand man's words. Any suspicion Daniels or anybody else might have remained unfounded, and they had injured Lloyd. Though Scythe and Steel Claw had been injured, the latter was already near one hundred percent. The former had already cleaned up his mess, and he'd be fully recovered in another day or so. When all things were considered, it wasn't a bad place to be in.

Westford hated to admit it, but Scythe hadn't messed up as badly as he had feared. If Kingdom was willing to defend the blunder, he was certain it meant the plan could still continue forward. He was certain he could take advantage of the timely visit from an outside force, too. He turned his attention to his right hand man. "Tell me, how is it that Lloyd Furr survived a fight against not one but two of you."

Kingdom hesitated for a moment, and Westford was made uncomfortable _again_ for not being able to see the armored man's face. When he spoke, it was with that same bland tone of voice which seemed barren of emotion. "It is certain he hosts a shadow from the Gate of Truth."

Westford paled. "I-I thought all shadows felt the need to punish humanity for their transgressions. I was counting on your support to finally bring us the peace Dante dreamed of."

Though his eyes were hidden, he still felt as if Kingdom's gaze was boring through his skull with a cold glower. "As you can see among even this group, we each have our different opinions on how to best approach it. Remember, I only brought the seven of us together because your dream was the biggest."

Westford swallowed. "Are you implying there might be a bigger dream?! I'm going to bring this world peace, and Amestris will serve as an example as what happens to those who veer off that path of peace. More than that, Amestris will have the honor of _becoming_ that peace as a new, true Philosopher's Stone."

Kingdom regarded the statement for a moment before replying. "You're also an Alchemist who's never seen the Gate of Truth. You were given the name Glass Alchemist because compared to your own student you are weak. However, his dreams are eclipsed by yours, and even Mustang lost his dreams to the Gate. I wouldn't say a stronger dream can't exist."

Westford's lips twitched before he threw out his next order. "Leave me! Consult Arbitrator Blade to determine the best time to strike and who." He paused. "Adjudicator Kingdom, I expect the next operation to go perfectly."

Kingdom bowed lightly before disappearing into the shadows. The rest of the Seven Judges didn't hesitate to follow as they too disappeared into the shadows. Westford was left alone to contemplate. "My Seven Judges are stronger than Dante's Seven Sins. I can bring about the peace she so desperately fought for. If Lloyd was strong enough to see the Gate and survive, perhaps I can use him. I need Alchemists capable of surviving that kind of experience…"

He rose from his desk and exited his study. Jeremiah Twain was dead. He was the first victim in his plan to reseat the Consulate. He couldn't do it politically, so he was going to do it the only other way he knew how. Amestris was going to pay for allowing Dante and Fuhrer King Bradley die without retribution, but it would still hold the honor of creating and maintaining peace.

* * *

Ah, I've been looking forward to this fight... In this chapter, the fight was 4,088 words and 8 pages long. In total, it was 5,577 words and 12 pages long. It took me almost a month to write, and it was the biggest factor in any delay followers of this fan fiction might feel existed. It was also the single bloodiest fight I have ever written and likely earns it the Mature rating I have given this story.

Before anybody asks, I am _not_ writing the serenade Lloyd wrote for Sarah. If there's anything I stink at more than anything, it's writing verse.

I appreciate comments and constructive criticism, but outright flames will be ignored.

Story Word Count: 10,067  
Story Page Count: 20


	7. Chapter 6: The Bell Tolls

Automailjunkie44: I try to keep up with this story, but the ideas run away far too often. I actually had a lot of editing to do with this chapter, plus school and work were killing me (work especially). I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the last!

* * *

**The Bell Tolls  
**

Left unaware of what was happening on the other side of town, Winry held Edward in a fierce embrace. He was blushing because he could feel her breasts rub against his chest, but he forced himself to ignore his more lecherous thoughts. She was practically sobbing, so he rubbed her back in an attempt to comfort her. He hadn't realized just how much he missed her.

They missed Rose leaving, and neither had ever really noticed. After hearing about Nina, Winry just fell against Edward. She felt the embrace come naturally, and she couldn't stop the forming tears. Why was her best friend filled with so many bitter memories? Why was he never allowed to just settling things and let it all go? She'd missed him dearly, and the embrace was long overdue.

The room was silent for several, long moments. It wasn't uncomfortable in the least. To the two childhood friends, it was the most calming and releasing moments they'd shared in a long time. They were reminded of just how deep their feelings towards the other ran, and they held closer in a shared effort to hide their growing blush. Neither realized the other's intentions, but they couldn't remain oblivious forever.

Perhaps in portending to their supposedly individualized thoughts, Bunny choose the best timing to walk in. The room had been far too silent for far too long. Just as the duo were wondering how they'd break the embrace without an overwhelming sense of awkwardness…and a lack of desire to speak their hearts too soon, the former thief cooed. "Aw, now if that isn't the sweetest sight I've seen you lovebirds in."

In a blur of untraceable motion, Winry stood. "Belilanca Rivera!" She yelled her friend's full name without thinking. Her hands were fisted by her side, and she leaned forward slightly. It was hard to tell if her skin was flush with anger, embarrassment, or thoughts of cuddling.

Edward's gaze rapidly shifted from the automail mechanic to the former thief and back again. Bunny was grinning from ear to ear, but he could have sworn 'Belilanca Rivera' was directed very specifically at her. Besides, a full name usually meant trouble. Why wasn't she running if Winry was angry?

Then he noticed how rigid she stood, even if bent at the waist. Her visible skin was flush, not just her face. Her heart was racing; he could tell. He placed his left hand against his chest to check his own heart. It was steady and fast, and he noted his own skin was flush. He shook his head and returned his attention to the scene.

"Come on, you two are cute together!" Bunny's voice was friendly as she cooed. She was obviously having fun teasing them. "Should I leave you alone to get comfy together?" She sidestepped with a wide grin as Winry pulled her giant wrench from ether space and nearly demolished the floorboards with it. She giggled madly as she dodged another wild swing.

In an effortless motion, she wrapped an arm around her friend's shoulders and whispered into her ear so that Edward couldn't hear. The gesture also effectively ended the blonde's rampage. "He got his memory back; I take it." Her friend nodded to the question-like statement. "He can't move for a while yet, right?"

Winry nodded again. "No, he can't. Automail surgery's tough on the body. Even Ed's gotta sleep it off." She tentatively took a sidelong glance at him. "I'm glad he's finally come back to me…" She didn't quite realize what she was saying, but a satisfied smile tugged at her lips.

Bunny wasn't letting the opportunity slip. Her breath was warm on her friend's ear. "He's come back just for you, huh?" She giggled as steam practically spilled out the blonde's ears. "My, my, did I interrupt something hot 'n' heavy?" She said the last part loud enough to make Ed turn beat red.

Needless to say, Bunny was jumping through the suite entrance as fast as her legs could carry her…and enjoying every second of it. Her eyes were closed as she wore a wide smile, and she was laughing like a woman possessed. Winry chased her halfway down the hallway before the elevator door closed with the mischievous girl's last words. "Go get 'im Goldie!"

Flustered, Winry slammed the door on her way back in. She also made sure to lock the door. She laid the only key to the suite on the stand near the entrance, but she didn't bother to check if it was there. Either it was, or Rose had it. She was confident she was alone with Edward, and she needed a quite, _solitary_ conversation with him.

Besides, Bunny's behavior was, as always, inappropriate. Even _if_, as farfetched as it was, they both wanted 'something more' in their relationship, it was still too early. Plus, he was in no condition to even walk the streets! He needed bed rest, and light conversation was all the doctor was allowing.

She steeled herself at the portal between the hallway and the bedroom. She had to get _those_ thoughts out of her mind. He was her childhood best friend, and he'd been absent far too long for any lingering feelings to be acted on. She took some calming breaths and walked in with a smile.

He watched nervously as she approached his bed once again. He was sweating bullets as she pulled up a chair and set it by his torso. He forced his eyes to meet hers as she sat, leaned her elbows on the bed, and rested her head in her palms. "You're going to tell me what you've been up to these past, oh, two and a half years." The smile on her face promised righteous fury if he wasn't completely honest.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Scythe staggered back as a loud crack announced his broken jaw. He scowled into the darkness as he tried to set the broken bone. His shadow abilities would ensure he healed quickly, but it still hurt. In an instant, the business end of his namesake embedded itself in the wall behind him and came dangerously close to decapitating him.

Kingdom's helmeted head pressed against his subordinate's unprotected face. The bloody-eyed shadow incarnate could see the gleam of the black fire which made up his superior's eyes, and he felt more fear than he thought possible. He tried to close his eyes and turn his face away, but he felt oddly captivated by the timeless orbs.

Even if his voice sounded emotionless, each member of the Seven Judges could feel their leader's displeasure, like rays radiating off the sun. "You failed miserably, Arbitrator Scythe. You not only failed to kill Jeremiah Twain at the designated time and place; you failed to remove a shadow host."

Scythe knew he couldn't really make an excuse. "I'm sorry the kill was so not sweet." He struggled to say it, but he managed without coughing and embarrassing himself further. He already felt humiliated by how he was forced to take out his target.

Kingdom ripped his subordinate's namesake from the wall and allowed him to slide down. "I defended you in front of Westford because your skills are still necessary. If not, I'd send you back to the Gate of Truth right now." It was no idle threat, and each of the Seven Judges knew it.

He carefully eyed Blade before speaking again. "Besides, I have new information. It seems one Winry Rockbell ran across an old friend, Cross." Besides Kingdom and Blade, there was a collective intake of breath. "It also seems one Pinako Rockbell ran across Seer and Faux."

The room was silent for a long moment before Steel Claw decided to speak up. Her body language revealed how nervous she was; she did _not_ like the idea of crossing paths with Cross. "I thought we didn't have anybody who could sense Shadows."

Kingdom nodded. "You are correct. Only Seer can sense Shadows." He paused to listen to the murmurs between his subordinates. "However, they made the mistake of crossing paths with people who can affect the probability of our success." The information was enough to quiet them down. "I have no doubt they are heading to Central to confront us."

For once, Scythe remained silent. There were few he was afraid to fight. Kingdom, Cross, and Faux were in fact on that short list. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides as they shook. He felt rage boiling up inside him.

After several long moments, Lance spoke up. He was leaning against the wall with his weapon resting diagonally across his chest. "If we can't sense which Shadows are moving, can we continue the plan?" It was obvious he wasn't looking forward to the prospect of facing such a tough force.

Strange to those present, it was Blade's androgynous voice which spoke up. "The paths of probability leading to our success have increased thanks to interference from Corsair." There was a short pause. "There is also a high likelihood Edward Elric and Alphonse Elric have returned."

"What do you mean 'high likelihood'?!" Lance beat everybody else to the punch. "Have they returned, or haven't they?" To the best of her knowledge, the second-in-command should have been able to read the probability paths for the Elric brothers. If not, Blade could certainly read the paths of those around them.

Kingdom interrupted. "That is enough, Arbitrator Blade. There is no need to confuse the Seven Judges any further." His second nodded before he continued. "Do not forget, the brothers Elric have passed through the Gate of Truth several times. Ignore their probabilities and concentrate on our mission."

Scythe chuckled. "If the brothers Elric are here, it will be so sweet." He covered his face as he released a string of mad laughter. "After all, they'll get to not only witness but be a part of Amestris' divine punishment." With a scoff, he continued. "Though we should just kill these worthless humans and start this world anew."

The room was filled with an immeasurable bloodlust. The Seven Judges turned toward the source, and they were surprised to see the normally calm Blade seething. Kingdom was quickly standing in front of the armored shadow incarnate; his hands on his second's shoulders.

After a silent exchange between commander and second, the bloodlust dissipated. The Seven Judges let out collective breaths they didn't realize they were holding. They couldn't help but gawk at the member they perhaps knew the least about.

"Scythe…" Kingdom started oddly carefully, still holding his second's shoulders. "I'd be careful about what I say if I were you." Coming from him, it was again no idle threat. "You know as well as I how many opinions there are concerning humans. Besides, our primary duty is to regulate souls through the Gate of Truth. Do you say our duty is not too trite?"

The question actually caused Scythe to pale. "No Adjudicator Kingdom, nothing of the sort!" Despite his quick response, he felt as if an immense weight were upon his shoulders. It was a weight he was only familiar with from two sources, Kingdom and Cross. After being forced to see his superior's black fire orbs, he wondered about his longevity.

Kingdom nodded, acknowledging his subordinate's answer. "Those who forget their place are not long for the worlds. If you forget your place or fail against a shadow host so miserably again, I might end your existence in Judgment rather than simply send you home."

Scythe's knees nearly gave out. The promise of retribution went beyond simple punishment. If he failed again, he was certain he would not enjoy the outcome. After a shuddering breath, he replied. "Y-Yes Adjudicator Kingdom… That would be so not sweet…" He closed his eyes and fought to regain composure. "I-I won't fail again."

Kingdom nodded. "It's best that you don't." He eyed each of his subordinates in turn. Scythe, Steel Claw, Lance, Axe, and Bludgeon were well picked for their tasks. They just had to be reminded from time to time of their place. For the moment, he had finished reprimanding the latest failure. "You are dismissed."

The five he directed his gaze towards dispersed into shadows without another word. Once they departed, he turned his full attention to Blade. "Your humble servant asks; what paths are open to us?"

* * *

Lucifer wore a grin which nearly split his face as he looked through the tent window to the night sky. As a Homunculus, he was well aware of the movement of alchemy and shadow. Normally, he might be afraid of the mass movement of shadow. He sensed his comrade move to stand beside him.

Isovar carefully eyed his portly ally. He was surprised to learn Amestris already had dealings with gunships, but he was even more surprised to learn the 'all seeing' doll knew nothing of it. Of course, it was explained that there was likely too much Gate energy surrounding the whole event. It didn't make him any less nervous. He decided to sate his curiosity to keep his mind from wandering. "What are you so elated about?"

Lucifer chuckled. "I've told you the story of a Homunculus' origins, correct?" He watched the tall Regent nod. "Well, I haven't told you that we are servants of the Gate." He paused while his impossibly wide grin widened further. "Yet, we all still fear its awesome power. I'm elated because I finally get to test myself against my innate fear."

Isovar heaved a sigh. He wasn't completely convinced the creature's ramblings meant anything important. He wasn't an Alchemist, and he was never really skilled at things like that. From his first memories, he was brought up to lead and strategize. His eyes narrowed as his gaze fell onto the Homunculus. "The _plan_ is to bring Elric back with us. Grand Sovereign wishes to improve our alchemy."

Lucifer nodded before turning his attention to the silver-haired man. The Regent was nearly taken aback by the maddening expression on the creature's portly face. "Your father will have what he wants!" He sounded as giddy as a school girl, and his throaty chuckles only served to enhance his lunatic appearance. "However, things are moving _quite_ interestingly."

They looked up when they heard the flap at the tent entrance rustle. Lucifer's expression returned to that of a kindly, rotund man while Isovar composed himself with an air of superiority and authority. They kindly bowed their heads as Mustang entered, followed by his right hand Riza. The Amestris duo returned the gesture, but their expressions were decidedly sullen.

Isovar was the first to speak up. "Ah, what's this? Has something happened?" The distrusting glares he was shot was all the confirmation he needed. He held his hands up defensively as if being aimed at by military police. "Wait now, I didn't do anything. I've been here the whole time."

Mustang nodded. "I know." He seated himself and gestured for Isovar to do the same. Once that was out of the way, he tented his hands and leaned his head on them. "What is your purpose here, really?" He'd had enough games. He just heard about Jeremiah Twain's death and Lloyd Furr's hospitalization. What's worse, Sheska told him the spy network turned up nothing.

Isovar raised a brow to the question. "Ah, something _did_ happen. You think I'm responsible." He paused for a moment and cupped his chin with his forefinger and thumb. "I can see where you're coming from. The timing is just too perfect to be a coincidence."

Mustang carefully nodded. He did not like how things were going, and he was only willing to reveal so much. As long as he could manipulate information in his favor, he could handle sharing. He just wasn't going to reveal that the boys were back. "One of our officials was murdered." He paused to take in their reactions, or lack thereof. "As such, we'd appreciate cooperation to investigate you, your troops, and your equipment."

Isovar was shocked. He was genuinely surprised to hear the information given to him. First, they had no reason to let them know about Amestris private affairs. Second, their current orders were infiltration and negotiation. He politely bowed his head. "That is most unfortunate news. Yes, anytime would be fine. You can start now, at first light, or at your earliest convenience."

Mustang sat straight before nodding again. He signaled for his second-in-command to come forward. She obeyed and leaned forward to allow him to privately pass a message. He carefully cupped his hand around his mouth and her ear to prevent the dropping of eaves. "Tell Armstrong that he has permission. I'll set up security here." He paused. "Does Black Hayate still like shrimp?"

Even if he was confident in his posturing, Riza still knew he was concerned for the boys. She knew him well enough to identify 'shrimp' as Edward Elric. She was certain he was talking in code just in case the Homunculus had superhuman hearing. "Yes, I understand, sir." She paused and saluted. After he returned the gesture and dropped it, she held her salute in place and continued. "He does, and, if you're buying, I'll certainly feed it to him."

Mustang shook his head. "Ah, you always make me buy the rich stuff." He shrugged while wearing his incorrigible smirk. "Oh well, I suppose that's fine. You're dismissed, Lieutenant." His smirk morphed into a wide grin as she rolled her eyes and left. Their little play was perfect as if rehearsed beforehand, and he was certain their guests hadn't caught on.

He turned to them after admiring Riza's retreating form. His persona was lewd, and he was sure his reputation preceded him. "Well gentlemen, if that's all…?" He phrased it as a question to make sure the Corsair delegates were quite finished.

Isovar nodded in agreement. "Yes, it's getting late, and my men and I need some rest. Am I to assume you have sleeping quarters prepared for us?" He was certain they weren't to be held as prisoners, so it seemed only polite.

Mustang sighed. "We do have some barracks stationed nearby." He paused for a moment. "I know Homunculi don't need sleep, so Lucifer will be coming with me under custody. It's only temporary until we've had a chance to examine him ourselves, and we _do_ want to survey all your equipment."

Isovar nodded in agreement. "Though I disprove you referring to my subordinate as an object, I can understand where you're coming from. Please, do as you see necessary." He was certain to be agreeable, for the time being. In his mind, his thoughts raced. _"I hope we didn't waste a trip here. Well, it doesn't matter. In the end, Corsair always gets what it wants."_

Mustang rose and politely bowed his head to his guests. As soon as he left, he started barking out orders. He made sure to stay near the tent to overhear any conversation between the Regent and Homunculus. To his displeasure, they were either silent or whispering.

In the end, the transition between the landing sight and nearby barracks went smoothly. The Corsair troops, under Isovar's instruction, complied and were quickly moved. Once under lock and key, they were fast asleep. Separated from Isovar and the rest of the soldiers, Lucifer was kept under scrutinizing watch. Nobody was taking any chances.

* * *

Eventually, even the most hectic day must pass into the next. Rose returned to the hotel suite with Calvin and Cybil in tow, and Bunny nonchalantly followed. They returned to see Edward asleep on the bed and Winry in an interesting position. They silently made it a point to never let them live it down.

Winry obviously fell asleep on the chair while talking to her childhood friend, but her body had half propped itself up next to Edward. The end result was both insightful and cute. She was half sitting on the chair and half lying next to him. They wagered the two would wake up fully cuddling each other.

The morning sun rose, but everybody slept in. Their fatigue had caught up with them, and their bodies fought for a few extra hours. The sun was nearly level with the suite window before the first signs of life stirred in the room. The energetic twins simply couldn't keep their childish tendencies from rousing them earlier than everybody else.

They awoke to the predicted scene. Edward and Winry were, indeed, snuggling up to each other as they slept. It made them slip into younger sibling mode, somewhere between distraught and jealous. They were sleeping in the only other bed in the room because Bunny and Rose were too goodhearted to make children sleep on the floor, so they groused to each other about the scene on the 'surgery' bed.

Bunny was comfortable and snoring with her back against the wall nearest the window. Though living a fairly comfortable life in Rush Valley after giving up her thievery, she was still rough around the edges. She mumbled incoherently as sunlight hit her, and she swatted like something was a little too close for comfort.

Rose moaned uncomfortably from her spot on the couch. Sure, she gave up a spot on the bed, but her body was more honest. Sweat covered her brow, so it was a safe bet she was having a nightmare. Her body would spasm for a moment before she calmed and babbled about something or another.

To anybody else, it was an all in all happy, familial scene. To Calvin and Cybil, it was a disruption from the status quo. They wanted their master to be happy, but they were still young. With a mischievous glint in their eyes, they agreed to the same prank in the silent language of twins, fraternal or identical.

Ever so stealthily, they snuck up on the sleeping duo. They crouched down low, like felines ready to pounce. They even shook their butts in anticipation as they licked their lips. They set their eyes on the goal…then were bopped on the head by an unexpected interloper. They looked up with the cutest pouts they could muster.

Bunny wasn't having any of it. "Listen, Winry's got her best friend back after some two and a half years, and I ain't having any of your foolishness." She crossed her arms under her chest and leaned her waist out. For her, it was a rather vain attempt to look authoritative. "Now, you can either sit down and shut up or go back to sleep."

Rose walked over to the scene while rubbing sleep from her eyes. "What are you guys up to so early?" She was still halfway between alert and unconscious, so she didn't notice how high the sun actually was. Then the noticed the scene playing out on the bed in question. At once, she felt pure joy and a pang of hurt in her heart.

She clapped her hands together, effectively grabbing every waking person's attention, while wearing a smile on her face. "Come on guys, let's order up breakfast. Then we'll wake those two up and enjoy a nice, cozy meal." Despite her words, her tone promised lots of embarrassment.

Calvin and Cybil had to be dragged way from harassing Edward and Winry. They _really_ didn't like the idea of leaving their master alone. They pouted and crossed their arms over their chests as they were forced away anyway. Bunny and Rose found their behavior endearing, so they put up with it with minimal fuss.

As they locked the door and turned towards the hallway, the gloomy atmosphere struck them like a ton of bricks. They cautiously looked around to see black and signs of mourning. They made their way down the hallway, trying to figure out what was going on. They were more confused to see the elevator barred from access.

After taking the stairs to the lobby, they were made aware of exactly what the mourning colors were for. They still had to guess why the elevator was barred. In front of the lobby entrance to the elevator was a picture of Consulate Member Jeremiah Twain. It was surrounded by flowers and sheets of paper, likely containing poems.

The four instantly bowed their heads before the small shrine. For Central, the loss of the poet laureate was a huge blow. He served the Consulate as a voice of reason, and he was probably the closest to a pacifist the military state of Amestris had. Though nobody wept for him, they all easily felt the heavy weight.

It was almost forty minutes before they returned to the hotel suite. As Rose was closing the door, they heard a sudden scream and slap. The quartet peaked around the corner to see an unexpected sight.

Edward pushed himself into a seated position on the floor while rubbing his cheek. Winry was kneeling on the bed pointing an accusatory finger at him. It was obvious what happened. They woke up, and she got the wrong impression. He ended up on the receiving end of punishment which, thankfully, didn't involve the ever available, giant wrench.

Calvin and Cybil were secretly happy, even giggling giddily at the scene. Bunny rolled her eyes and shook her head, emphasizing her annoyance by rubbing her forehead in her palm. Rose just stared horrified and stupefied. There was only one thing left to make the scene complete.

"You pervert!" Winry did not disappoint. She shook with indignant fury.

"Wha-…?" Edward stared at her dumbly. "I'm the one who woke up surprised to see you in _my_ bed!" He needed to emphasize that he was, indeed, the one 'assigned' to the bed they shared. He wasn't even sure how she ended up beside him, and he was less certain why he was being punished.

She continued to shake as she brought her fist to her face. It looked like several veins were ready to pop as her blood continued to boil. In an angry tone barely above a whisper, she recriminated him. "That doesn't give you the right to grope me for the second time in as many days…"

He defensively crossed his arms in front of him. "Whoa, I didn't do it on purpose!" He wasn't even sure he grabbed her with his real hand. He just knew he had to save himself before her temper flared any further. Thankfully, he was saved from a most convenient third party.

Rose stepped into the room carrying two trays of food. "Now, now children…" She reprimanded them as she set the fresh food before each. "We can't be fighting this early in the morning. Now, eat your breakfast so we can start the day." The smile on her face was wide, and a knowing glint shined in her eyes. Somehow, her aura promised embarrassment rather than physical pain for disobeying.

Calvin and Cybil witnessed, for the first time, somebody use a power greater than their master's. Winry was subdued, and she quietly ate. She was still flush crimson, same as her partner in crime, but she ate without another word. They still glared angrily at Edward.

Bunny set the rest of the trays down, and the room was soon silent as everybody ate. The quartet who left earlier didn't quite know how to break the news of Jeremiah Twain's death to the duo that got a little bit extra sleep. The silence was stifling, but nobody seemed able to break it. They just ate.

* * *

Mustang yawned and stretched. He hated waiting. Most of all, he hated _sitting_ and waiting. He wanted to be doing something. He wanted to be out and about, actively _doing_ something. Riza sat a cup filled with coffee beside him. Two empty cups lay rolling nearby.

He yawned again, and his second decided to speak up. "How many times do you plan on doing that, sir?" She spoke in her usual calm, collected voice, but she was obviously reprimanding.

"Ah didna gesh mup shlip." He managed to get the entire sentence out in the space of yet another yawn. When he saw her blush, he knew it was because she knew him well enough to interpret his seemingly incomprehensible speech. "Anyway, our search turn anything up yet?"

She shook her head. "The men and equipment from Corsair show no sign of recent use, and the Homunculus is either innocent or nonresponsive, sir." She shuffled a file from under her arm to the table beside him. "Lieutenant General Daniels left this for you earlier this morning, sir. His offices have been working with the Consulate, as expected, to uncover Jeremiah Twain's murderer."

He sighed. "Let me guess, they haven't turned up anything either?" He was surprised to see her nod her head and point to the file. Perplexed, he opened the file and proceeded to scan the pages. He stopped on a particular interesting passage. "Oh, this is interesting. Consulate Members Twain and Furr were attacked by a man claiming to be Arbitrator Scythe working for the Seven Judges. It says here he was joined by two other Arbitrators, Steel Claw and Lance."

"That's not all, sir." She pulled out another file before opening it and placing it over the file he was reading. "Lieutenant General Daniels ensured me this file was for our eyes only, sir. It's considered confidential, but he believes we can use it to help further the investigation."

At first, he only scanned the lines. As he read further into the file, he soaked in every word. He was intrigued by the words, and he was intent on unraveling the mystery unfolding before him. "Oh, now this is interesting." He paused as he closed the files. "To think of the timing…"

She nodded before assuming a lecturing posture. She wagged her finger at him as she took an admonishing tone. "Besides all that, what were you thinking when you decided to hide the shrimp somewhere in town? If you were worried about sleep, you should have just brought it over. Now poor Sheska has to walk Black Hayate all over town to find his meal."

Mustang knew what was up instantly, and he shrugged arrogantly. "We can't have your dog's senses dulling; now can we?" His expression was smug as he looked at her, almost daring her to defy him. Playing her part, Riza went to retort before they heard shuffling footsteps behind them.

While he looked around her, she turned around and stepped to the side to reveal Regent Spartan Isovar. He was flanked by military police, but he didn't seem uncomfortable. "I wasn't interrupting anything important; was I?" He paused to put on a pomp smirk. "A lover's spat, perhaps?"

Mustang narrowed his eyes. "She's my secretary and right arm. I'd appreciate it if you didn't make such ridiculous allegations." He was rubbing it on a bit thick, but he needed to maintain the high ground, so to speak. "She was concerned over a little…prank I played on her dog."

Isovar chuckled. He was trying to wrap his head around a _man_ playing a prank on a _dog_, but he ended up laughing at the insanity. He collected himself after a moment of mirth only to disregard the subject. "In other matters, am I to assume we won't resume talks until after we're cleared of suspicion, at least?"

Mustang set the files down and narrowed his eyes towards the foreign dignitary. Riza, of course, collected the files before prying eyes or fingers could have a look. The newly appointed Lieutenant General barely kept the venom from his words. "I'm sorry if this little inconvenience terribly bores you."

"A little defensive, are we?" Isovar spoke with a sigh. "You must understand; I'm on a time schedule. I can explain a little delay, but too much will pull into question my title as Regent."

Mustang rubbed his temples. He really didn't mean to snap like he did. It might give the wrong impression or too much information. He wasn't even sure what his counterpart might have already figured out. "I've got to attend a function this afternoon. Afterwards, we can see what the situation is like."

Isovar smirked. "You want to get a feel for my sense of innocence or guilt." He raised his arms defensively at the glower he received. "I can understand. Besides, my men could use a little rest and relaxation."

Mustang opened his mouth for a quick quip when a couple of questions that had been on his mind came bubbling to the surface. "I know a few things that could help things along. I'll even give you time to think up how to answer them." He knew the information might give him an upper hand the Regent would not be willing to give. With only a moment's consideration, Isovar nodded.

Mustang drew in and released a deep breath. "First, I would like to know how you learned our language. You're good at hiding it, but your accent definitely screams, 'I don't belong here.' Second, I would like to know more about Corsair, like your rank and the Grand Sovereign you mentioned earlier. Finally, I'm interested in those gunships and how you got here."

Isovar smirked and half-grunted a chuckle. "I was wondering when you'd get to that." He relished the annoyed glances he received. "I'm sure you'll be surprised on the first one. You see; Lucifer has a most interesting ability. For years, he's watched Amestris. He's learned its language and traditions. He even learned of its important people. He calls it his all-seeing eye."

Mustang narrowed his eyes while Riza glared dangerously. They were sure of it. The Homunculus Pride, also known as Fuhrer King Bradley, might have called it something else, but the arrogance was still present. It was the eye that supposedly saw everything and could unravel any alchemy, breaking it to its base components to instantaneously counter it.

"Ah…" Isovar cooed. "See, you have heard of it. Lucifer made excellent use of it." He paused to tap his chin, somewhat surprised to not hear any objections or arguments. "As for your second question, I'm not sure what you'd like to know exactly. Maybe you'd like to know more about our political system, hmm?" Mustang's nod was all he needed.

Isovar continued after a second to think. "Grand Sovereign is my father, and he rules over all Corsair. Beneath him stand three Sovereigns, my eldest brother and sister and their mother. While Grand Sovereign is the central authority, each Sovereign has their own powers. Like the rest of his wives and my siblings, I am a Regent with relatively minor powers. I, for example, command the _Hoarfrost Gunship Fleet_."

To the information revealed, Mustang finally spoke up. "You're awfully willing to share information. Care to explain your generosity?" Of course, he knew the information did him little good. He had no idea the actual strength of the _Hoarfrost Gunship Fleet_, nor did he know what powers the lesser titles of Sovereign or Regent bestowed.

Isovar merely chuckled. "Lucifer told us a bit about how Amestris used to work while a Fuhrer was in power. I believe it's only fair, and I see no harm. I can assure you, however, that my title indeed allows me to authorize the trades I have already mentioned." He sounded quite confident.

Mustang had to admit; he was hating this Lucifer more with each passing moment. He had no idea what the Homunculus could see with the described eye, and he didn't know how much information Corsair actually had. After a moment to contemplate, he signaled for Isovar to continue.

The Regent only smiled as he resumed. "You'll learn more about the gunships as your scientists study them. I'm also sure you'll learn about all the interesting ways to cross Amestris' border once you start flying. I don't know much about the lands surrounding you, but the path we took was most certainly the easiest."

_"Easy?"_ Mustang narrowed his eyes. _"The 'easiest' routes into Amestris from the outside are where we have no checkpoints, places that can't be easily reached on foot. Is he saying they flew over the most dangerous passes?"_ Knowing he was just traveling circles in logic, he forced him out of his thoughts with a final question. "Well if that's all, we'll be going. Don't want to be late."

Isovar nodded. "Of course, of course, I understand." He waved as the Flame Alchemist and his Hawk's Eye climbed into a jeep and drove off. As the vehicle's silhouette disappeared in the distance, his wide grin became a crooked smirk. In his own language, he carefully spoke. "The _Hoarfrost Blade_ stings the desert sand the most."

He allowed himself to be escorted back to the barracks by the military police that originally brought him to Mustang. He completed the task he had set out to, and there was an extra little bounce to his step. Lucifer's information proved invaluable once again, and Grand Sovereign and Corsair would benefit greatly.

He didn't know the conversation taking place in the jeep already approaching the outermost building of Central. Mustang's gaze was fixed ahead as he spoke to nobody in particular. "I don't trust him." Riza eyed him knowingly. "I just don't trust him. My gut says he's up to something."

* * *

"Yo!" The smirking, old man laughed to himself as he watched the occupants of the small hotel suite jump at his entrance. He sat in the windowsill without a care in the world. He took quick note that a particular gold-eyed, young man with his golden tresses tied back in a long ponytail looked back up to peak condition.

"You!" Winry shot to her feet and pointed an accusing finger. "I can't believe your nerve!" She couldn't believe that Kenneth Troy, the man who weaseled a discount out of her, could be sitting as carefree as he was nearly in the same room! She paused for a moment. _"Wait, aren't we several stories up?"_

Kenneth's gaze rested on Edward Elric. "Ah, it's good to see the Hero of the People in such good health." His voice was filled with mirth, and his smile was genuine. Even if he was a conniving old man, he at least seemed to be on their side. He even seemed interested in watching the gears in the Full Metal Alchemist's head turn.

Something in Edward's mind clicked. He didn't know what it was; he never met the guy before. He still felt a familiarity. He knew…_something_ about the man sitting impossibly on the windowsill. He narrowed his eyes as he realized what the eerie feeling was. "The Gate of Truth… You…" He paused. "Something about you seems familiar."

Five pairs of eyes transfixed on the golden-eyed man with varying responses. Winry was surprised, knowing the most about the Gate. She was worried for her childhood friend and what the information might mean. Rose was curious about how the events would turn out. Bunny was concerned about how he would react. Calvin and Cybil, knowing the least, were just confused.

Kenneth chuckled. "I guess you could say that." His smirk broadened when he heard Edward gasp at a physical change that should have been impossible. The old man's sclera filled with black flames. _"That should get the juices flowing. After all, he _is_ a prodigy."_

Edwards's demeanor changed from surprise to rage as he made the connection. He knew the reason he immediately thought of the Gate in relation to the intruder. "You shadow scum, what do you want?!" His voice was laced with venom as he prepared to clap his hands together and complete the alchemic cycle of energy.

Kenneth clapped his hands. "Bravo!" His eyes were closed in a wide smile before he wagged his finger and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in a condescending manner. "Now, now Full Metal, there are children present." He frowned when the women tightened into a formation around Calvin and Cybil.

Edward analyzed the room around him as well as his artificial limbs. He quickly picked up what materials he had to work with. In a matter of seconds, he had already formulated a multitude of options to fight with. "Get out! I'm not letting you take anybody here!" He practically barked his words out like orders.

Kenneth sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah, sorry, sorry, I got the wrong impression across." The tension didn't die down in the least. He sighed. "Tough crowd, tough crowd…" He rubbed his brow as a frown took over his expression. "Listen, I'm only here to talk. I've got some information you'll want."

"I'm listening…" Edward nodded, but he didn't lower his guard. He didn't know what the man across from him was capable of, but he knew any 'gifts' from the Gate would make things insanely difficult.

For quite possibly the first time in years, Kenneth let his mask slip. He wore a serious if sad expression. If anything, his next words were going to shake the young Alchemist's world to the core. "A great many forces are moving against Amestris, and you're a little late to the party to prevent it."

"Wait… What?" Edward's stance lowered out of confusion. He knew Kenneth was a shadow only through his 'memories' through the Gate. He wasn't sure, however, _why_ he was there or what his objective was. He had to get more information. "Why are you telling me this? What difference could I make?"

Kenneth actually smirked a small bit at the response. "As I'm sure most or all of you have noticed, there's a big commotion going about in town." He held up two fingers and lowered one with each point. "There are two causes. The citizens are concerned about the strange, flying craft they saw overhead late yesterday. They are also mourning the loss of a member of the Consulate."

With exception of Edward, all eyes in the room were downcast. Winry may not know who was dead, but she guessed it was one of the older members, Gwyneth or Julian. The rest knew the truth as they had to leave the hotel to retrieve breakfast.

Of everybody, Edward knew the least. He had no idea what the Consulate even was, let alone its members. "Yeah, well I can understand Central up in arms about some airplane. The last time anybody saw one, it was attacking the city and the Alchemists made a big fuss about it." He paused long enough to hate his next question. "However, I can't understand something I don't know about. Consulate?"

Again, Kenneth chuckled. His amusement earned him angry glowers from the grown man and women. The children just looked on, confused. "I'm sure you didn't hear about them. They were formed after you left…" He paused. "What? …two, three years ago?"

He tapped his chin in contemplation. "Anyway, they filled the political power void left when King Bradley died, leaving the Fuhrer position open. There were plenty of power mongers ready to snatch the position, but Amestris needed something…more stable." He paused knowing he gave enough information before he got to the hard part.

With a heavy-hearted sigh, he related exactly what he knew. "Jeremiah Twain, one of those elected consulate members, was murdered late last night or early this morning." The rage in the golden-eyed Alchemist's eyes was unmistakable. "The perpetrator is as yet unknown, or any accomplices. Well, that's the way it has to remain to the public at large…for the time being."

His statement earned him an incredibly suspicious look as Edward voiced his opinion. "Wait, you expect me to believe you know more about this murder than the investigators?" He paused to emphasize his next proposition. "…or are you saying the publics being purposely kept in the dark about this?"

The idea never crossed Calvin and Cybil's minds as they just gasped at the very idea. They were interrupted from their thoughts as Winry burst out. "Wait, who would want to kill Jeremiah?! Even if poorly written, his poems were inspirational! He was one of the most levelheaded members!"

Kenneth heaved a sigh. "Sadly, that _is_ still under investigation." He felt guilty at the desolate expression Winry wore, but he had to pretend to be in the dark as much as the investigation teams. His gaze rested squarely on the elder Elric. "The only thing left for me to tell you is that shadows were behind the incident. I'm sure you'll find more answers when you go to the mass funeral to be held this afternoon."

He watched the blond Alchemist narrow his eyes, suspicions raised again. He practically rolled his eyes at the implication. "Don't go assuming things. Not all shadows agree on how to handle Alchemists who trespass on their territory." He nearly grunted as he caught his mistake, _their_ territory. He could only hope it went unnoticed.

"Yeah, fine, whatever…" Edward waved it off. He didn't have time for an argument. He was more curious about something else if he wasn't getting any more information on Jeremiah and the shadows that attacked him. "I've only known my master, father, and Dante to see the Gate. Why'd you do it?"

Kenneth wore a sad smile as he chuckled mirthlessly. "That, young Alchemist, is a story for another time." His gaze shifted to Calvin and Cybil as he quietly whispered. "It is not a story I wish to traumatize children with." Expression serious, he turned back to Full Metal. "You should know and may have realized that if shadows are involved…Alchemy aided in the murder of Jeremiah Twain."

Edward's eyes went wide as what he should have realized sooner became blindingly apparent. As he was about to start asking the questions racing through his mind, Kenneth arched backwards and fell out the window. As the adults raced for the window, they knew they were too late.

Edward reached the windowsill first with Winry shortly right beside him. They looked over the ledge to see…nothing. Kenneth was nowhere in sight. Bunny tried to squeeze in next to Winry and Rose next to Edward.

Angry at being crammed and not catching what exactly the old man did, Edward pulled back. His eyes went wide as he realize just how tightly packed the four of them were. He fell back pulling them with him and closed his eyes. Somehow, he got twisted around and fell forward onto something soft and warm.

He felt someone land behind him and push him down. Worse, it felt like his lips met something warm and moist. He opened his eyes to see the wide-eyed expression Winry wore, and he silently cursed his luck. Oh, he loved it, but he was going to get the beating of his lifetime.

Rose felt a cold sweat as she nervously sat on top of him, unsure if she should move for fear of his safety.

* * *

The skies did not match the solemn mood of the people as they gathered for the second time in as many days for a speech. The previous day had hearkened the return of then Brigadier General Roy Mustang. They were gathered to bid farewell to a young man whom died too early. The sky was bright with nary a cloud to block the sun.

On the stage, members of the Consulate gave obituaries. Each spoke of Jeremiah Twain from what they knew. The only absentee was Lloyd Furr, still recuperating at a heavily guarded hospital. There were some tears in the crowd, but he was a celebrity everybody knew of and few knew personally.

Westford was in his usual box. He was enjoying the funeral as if it were a festival. His plan was moving forward, and he was one step closer to Dante's utopia. He was flanked by Kingdom and Blade. It seemed strange to him, but he shrugged it off. He figured the other five were preparing to move forward. He was enjoying the distraction the Corsair invasion brought.

Mustang was among the crowd. He stood next to Riza, and he wasn't paying much attention to the Consulate members as they gave their speeches. His thoughts were on Isovar and the Corsair _Hoarfrost Gunship Fleet_ he had the endless fortune to meet. The timing was too perfect.

He panned the crowd to see if he could spot a familiar face. Behind him stood Alphonse Elric and Major Armstrong, but he was looking for the elder brother. There was no way one returned without the other. They were too stubborn for that. Besides, Lucifer looked too excited. He didn't believe in coincidences.

He had his men scouring the assembly. They easily passed for security, but it would be odd for his secretary not to be standing with him. It would be insulting for him to not be in attendance, so he had to settle for the current setup. Besides, he was confident Sheska could find their target with Black Hayate's aid even _if_ Edward didn't grace them with his presence.

At the very back of the gathering because of how late they were getting there, Edward stood grumbling. Somebody _killed_ with Alchemy. It was like with Nina all over again. It ate at him that Kenneth, a _shadow_, implied he might have been able to prevent some of what was going on.

He was also grumbling about how Winry treated him once he was finally able to get off her. He didn't know how, but he avoided being turned into pulp. Instead, she stormed out the room…_ignoring_ him. In truth, it hurt a lot more. Sure, the kiss wasn't intentional, but he'd rather talk things over or _something_. He'd rather be black and blue.

Winry still had her back to him as she stood in front of him. Her apprentices flanked her and gave him dirty looks. He couldn't see it, but she was fighting a fierce blush. Her quaking arms might have implied she was angry, but she felt nervous with butterflies in her stomach. He _kissed_ her. It was an accident, but _he kissed her_!

Edward really didn't know what he was doing there. He had to find Alphonse, and, as much as he hated to admit it, it would be a good idea to look for Mustang, too. As a military man introduced as Lieutenant General Jack Daniels stood at the podium, he really question what value his presence in the crowd had.

He knew Daniels was the last speaker. The other four had already gone, and the last surviving member couldn't make it. As he was contemplating slipping out to avoid yet another horrible poem being read, he felt something wet and rough rub…lick at his hand. He looked down to see an awfully familiar black-furred canine.

He followed the tongue licking his hand to the muzzle. The muzzle let to face with happily glistening eyes. He followed the collar to the leash to the person walking the dog. He stared, pointing for a moment, as he attached a name to the face framed by brunette hair. "Sheska, what are you doing with Black Hayate?"

Private Sheska stared dumbly for a few moments as Mustang's words sank in…and why Riza looked so, um, perturbed. As the assembled masses went silent for a moment of prayer, she finally spoke up with a happy revelation. "Oh, that's what he meant by help Black Hayate find the shrimp."

She continued talking, but Edward didn't hear any of it. He was fuming, and the three women around him knew what was coming next. Winry cupped her hands over his mouth from behind. Rose wrapped her arms around his torso to keep him from lashing out. Bunny opted to hold his feet to keep him from jumping around or storming off into the crowd to kill a certain, newly appointed Lieutenant General.

Sheska felt a cold sweat as she watched the display. She completely forgot how badly he reacted to…mention of his short stature. She wasn't sure that was the case anymore, however. Looking at him, was he taller than everybody but Bunny now?

Further up in the crowd, Mustang felt a sudden foreboding.

On the other side of town, two figures walked the streets of Central freely. They were well known by both the people and the state army, so it was no trouble getting in. Gwendolyn Ashcraft and Harvard Rivers had one destination in mind, but they had a bad feeling they were late for something.

* * *

Isovar took a final glance to his military police escort. He was finally able to speak with Lucifer. It was a fact he attributed to finding him innocent. He closed the tent flap and looked around. With a smirk, he realized Mustang must have put the Homunculus in such a weak structure on purpose. It wouldn't be difficult to break out.

The plump creature greeted the Regent with a wide grin. "I trust things went well?" He saw no reason to believe the contrary. Grand Sovereign, Regent of the _Hoarfrost Blade_, and Homunculus of Corsair wanted the same thing, and jeopardizing that goal was the last thing any of their minds.

Isovar smirked. "Was there ever a doubt? Mustang's not blind. He knows there's no way the _Hoarfrost Gunship Fleet_ attacked and killed an important figurehead." He sighed. "Though, I do fear it implies a conspiracy. It will slow things…considerably." He hated the idea of losing control of the situation.

Lucifer's grin didn't fade. "Oh, that won't be a problem. At the very least, it won't be a setback." He looked through and open window to the high sun. He _knew_ he sensed the Gate open, and he _knew_ he sensed an Alchemist fall through lacking a shadow, two really. "It's only a matter of time. Edward Elric is here."

Isovar nodded. The prodigy was their goal. "Mustang has agreed to resume talks later this afternoon. I expect him to have a team of mechanics look over my gunships at that time. He's an honorable man; I doubt he'd inspect them without at least some oversight."

"Oh?" Lucifer paused as he contemplated something. "I would think things would take longer." Was the Flame Alchemist planning something? "No matter, it only benefits us in the end."

With another nod, Isovar turned to leave. As he held the tent flap open, he looked over his shoulder. "I expect you to be ready when I return. I'm sure Mustang will have MPs escort us to a meeting place of his choosing. Do be on your best behavior and cover up your ouroboros. We don't want _another_ misunderstanding." Speaking his peace, he left to be escorted back to the barracks by the military police.

Once the silver-haired Regent departed, Lucifer looked over his shoulder. In hushed tones, he called out. "Please, don't try hiding your presence from me." His sent the man who seemed to melt out of the shadows an icy glower. "I may not know _which_ of those spiteful Gate dwellers you are, but I can easily sense your presence."

The old man wore an angry smirk. He also kept his voice low. "You can just call me Kenneth Troy, Ken for short." He didn't like the idea of talking with the Homunculus, but he was sure he was already detected when he talked with Winry. If there was a time to throw caution to the wind, he figured it was for some detective work.

The plump Homunculus scoffed. "You can call me Lucifer, old man." He saw no reason to show the old war veteran any respect. He'd obviously lost in seduction to the Gate of Truth.

Kenneth raised a brow to the name. He was used to Homunculi going by other names, but he wasn't going to get nitpicky. "What's your purpose here? You can't have traveled such a long distance just to chat nice with Amestris' state military." He'd lost track of how many Homunculi got it into their heads to drive Alchemists towards crafting a Philosopher's Stone just to become human.

"Oh..." Lucifer chuckled as he cooed. "…not much." He tapped his finger against his chin. "I guess you haven't heard through the grapevine. Corsair's come hoping to set up a trade alliance. They've even offered up schematics for some powerful gunships in exchange for alchemic knowledge."

Kenneth narrowed his eyes dangerously. The plan sounded like something out of a Homunculus handbook. "You're trying to strengthen alchemy in Corsair? What you do, promise them an invincible Homunculi army?" He was certain their Grand Sovereign wouldn't offer up such valuable assets without suitable compensation.

To his surprise, Lucifer laughed. "Oh, nothing quite like that. The people of Corsair trust us about as much as people here in Amestris." He chuckled. "No, maybe even less so. They aren't about to go loosing an army of me on the world." He shook his head. "No, no, they're more likely to strengthen their own forces with something similar to Amestris' State Alchemy Corps."

He hated to admit it, but it made sense. Kenneth took a moment to consider it. Corsair benefited from a trade alliance with Amestris. He had doubts about how genuine they were, but he couldn't simply contest it. Still, a question kept nagging at the back of his mind. "Why help them, then? I'm sure you're not running a charity."

Lucifer scoffed. "You assume I should tell you?" He almost laughed at the death glare he received. "I have no reason to tell you, and you have no means to force me."

Kenneth was across the room and holding the plump creature aloft with barely a motion. He had a hand tightly wrapped around the Homunculus' throat, and black fire filled his sclera. A wide smirk took his face as he noticed the fright in his captive's eyes. "Now that I've got your attention, let's drop the smart-aleck routine."

Lucifer clutched his hands to his captor's arms to keep his body weight from straining his neck. Even if it was an artificial body, he still felt immense pain being held as he was. "You know as well as I what will happen in a few years!" As his body was lowered, he continued. "I like my existence. I'd even swallow my pride and help you spiteful Gate spawn, but our grudge is deeper than the rift between us and humans."

Kenneth released his grip on the Homunculus' neck before pushing him. He sneered at the plump creature's implication. "You still don't understand that your kind isn't superior to humans. Besides, Edward Elric was not allowed to travel back through the Gate of Truth just to be used as a pawn in _your_ devices."

Lucifer carefully eyed the old veteran. "How long were you listening?" He was certain he hadn't revealed that much of his hand to the shadow before him. The statement may have confirmed the Gate let Edward back through, but he was already certain of that information.

Kenneth only had one, short response. "Long enough." He backed up and faded into the shadows so that only his voice remained before his presence completely disappeared. "Know this Homunculus, the Shadows are always watching."

Lucifer nervously bit his thumb. "Oh, now this might complicate things. If two different factions of those spiteful Gate dwellers are moving, it'll make things more difficult for me to move." He sighed. "Oh well, I can't control every little detail. I've just gotta live with this one."

A distance away on a hill where he could still see the tent, Kenneth barely controlled his lips from twitching. "I was counting on dealing with a group of delinquent Shadows, but now I've got to babysit a bunch of humans dumb enough to partner with a Homunculus?" He sighed. "To think, I've got an important meeting left, too."

He disappeared, any traces of his presence cleared from the spot. He didn't know what to expect from meeting with the Homunculus, but he did receive some insight.

* * *

I love 'Bunny moments' in this fiction... I can write sweet and tender, like Nina last chapter, but Bunny is just thrown in there for pure fan service. Oh reviewers, please tell me how I handle the Bunny, Nina, and other, random moments.

I had some fun with this chapter, but it also took some time and doing. I actually ended up writing a lot more than appeared in this chapter, and some of it won't appear for another two or three chapters. I wanted to have this chapter out last month, but fifty-plus hour weeks for _work alone_ is evil, especially retail. My feet are _still_ killing me. At least I got a ninety-six in my last class, or I'd have to choke somebody for ridiculous work loads. Please enjoy and review!

I appreciate comments and constructive criticism, but outright flames will be ignored.

Story Word Count: 10,010  
Story Page Count: 21


	8. Chapter 7: Antithesis

TimeShifter: Winry tends to be more emotional while Ed's a bit more logical. He realizes things, but he's thinking more about protecting his loved ones' feelings and lives. I hope to rescue opinions on Calvin and Cybil, but I am holding back their history for the time being. Ken and Isovar are awesome; aren't they? I can only hope my reunion scenes live up to your expectations, but I expect them to be a bit duller than some were anticipating.

S J Smith: It is a daunting fiction, and it's fighting me every step of the way! The sad thing is that I actually started this story back in 2006, and my writing ability, to put it mildly, was horrible. I do hope you continue to enjoy! Also Ed being squeezed by gobs of women...I want to be in his shoes...

* * *

**Antithesis  
**

Jeremiah Twain's memorial service lasted an hour and a half. In that time, Winry, Rose, and Bunny managed to calm Edward down after Sheska's thoughtless comment. Of course, he wasn't mad at the brunette Private. It was all Mustang's doing. Silently, he made a vow to himself. When he found the obnoxious Lieutenant General, heads were going to roll!

As the throng of well wishers dispersed, Sheska, along with Black Hayate, led Edward, Winry, and her group to Mustang and the present Consulate members. They stopped some distance away to watch as Jeremiah's family was comforted. They were given assurance that his murderer would be found and brought to justice.

Hearing the mother's wailing, Edward plopped down and set his hands between his crossed legs. "I don't like this..." His eyes were cross as they set upon the grieving family.

"What?" Winry, confused, sat next to him. After adjusting to a comfortable seated position that was moderately feminine, she looked expectant into his eyes. She knew him well enough to read those golden orbs. He was upset about someone likely not present for the mourning.

"I hate this!" He managed to keep his voice low enough, so nobody outside the small group could hear his outrage. "Somebody is just finding new ways to hurt people with Alchemy." He had hoped that with Dante gone and her ambitions revealed some semblance of peace might settle in for a while.

Calvin looked at him oddly. "Isn't that what the State Alchemists are for?" When he received questioning looks from everybody but Edward and Winry, the latter of which sent him an angry glower instead, he clarified. "I mean; the State Alchemists are sent in to do the military's dirty work. Aren't _they_ using Alchemy to hurt people?"

Cybil clapped a fist against an open palm. "That's right!" She pointed out Edward's pocket watch. "Aren't you being a hypocrite if you say _you're_ innocent of not hurting people with Alchemy?" She knew what her brother was trying to do, and she approved. They might not be blood-related to their master, but she was an older sister figure to them.

Their taunting actually brought a smirk to his face. "Hey Winry, you got some bright ones here." He paused to look them in the eyes, each in turn. "To tell the truth, I always tried to avoid hurting people with Alchemy. I'm called 'the Hero of the People' because I always worked to use my Alchemy to help wherever I could."

The twins weren't buying it, and he could tell. With a heavy sigh, he tried to explain. "I won't say I haven't hurt anybody along the way. I've defended myself and done some things I regret." He felt a twinge of guilt recalling how he left Winry for the second time to travel to the parallel world.

Rose smiled and came to his defense. "That's right." She patted the twins on the head. She had a certain fondness for them. They were mischievous, probably because they relied mostly on themselves as social peers. "You've heard of Lior, right?" She continued after their confirming nods. "Well, I'm from that city."

The twins were dumbstruck for only a minute. Looking at each other, they shared a silent conversation and nodded. Calvin was the one to speak up. "We heard the State Alchemists destroyed Lior. Don't you hold resentment towards them?" Even Cybil was at a loss for the pained expression the pink-and-brown haired girl showed.

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't." She placed a hand over her stomach as she forced pained memories out of her mind. "Every cloud has a silver lining; I think." Any pain in her eyes was replaced by unmistakable joy. "I had my rays of hope to look forward to. I could always count on my memories of Ed's heroism."

Edward scoffed. "I was no hero in Lior..." He still had bitter memories. If he hadn't gotten involved, they could have lived longer in bliss. They might have remained ignorant, but they would have been safe. His involvement brought Lior to Amestris' attention, especially Dante. At least that was the truth in his mind.

"Oh really, Ed?" Rose practically cooed. "_I_ think you were a hero. The words you spoke are still etched in my head. 'You've got a good pair of legs, Rose. Use 'em.'" She pressed her hands against her chest as if attempting to capture the feeling of rapture. "You gave us our will back."

Winry remained silent, but she couldn't help noticing the emotions playing across her friend's face. _"She's still in love with Ed..."_ She felt a little bad for her, but she had long ago recognized her own feelings. She had even sworn to ignore any courting suitors and die an old maid after the painful realization that came far too late. She just had to wait for the dense young man to catch up.

Edward narrowed his eyes. He felt disgust and a hint of self-loathing well in the pit of his stomach. "A lot of good that did you!" He caught himself before his volume rose too high. Jeremiah's family was only just being escorted away. "I only got you caught up in the stupid civil war Dante wanted."

Winry rolled her eyes and finally blurted out. "They were _already_ caught up in it." She regretted speaking her mind immediately and covered her mouth. She didn't know if she could or even should share the information she had. She wasn't even the one who gathered it in the first place.

Fortunately, she was saved. Sheska sighed. "Edward, Lior was a trap Dante set to observe you." All attention was riveted to her. Her voice was calmer than any of them remembered, except Calvin and Cybil who had no experience with her. "Rose can confirm this, but a very _healthy_ Cornello 'returned' to Lior immediately after you left. However according to intel, this new Cornello was somebody you know quite well." She paused for dramatic effect. "Envy..."

As her voice trailed off, the name settled in differently for everybody. Edward visibly seethed. Despite the draconic Homunculus helping him return for the final time, he still despised his supposed half-brother for everything he'd ever done. Winry shook with fright but quickly composed herself to look strong. Rose was in disbelief; though, she knew even that Cornello was a fake. Bunny, Calvin, and Cybil never had the displeasure of meeting the Homunculus, so they just observed.

"Well, well, well..." The group looked towards the new voice to see Mustang approaching. To his right and slightly back, Riza Hawkeye silently followed. "Would you look at what we have here?" He looked Edward over, inwardly sighing in relief. "I almost didn't notice you with this little crowd." Old habits die hard.

Despite Winry's best efforts, Edward still managed to appear before the Flame in a quick, fluid movement. His fist was balled for emphasis as he practically spat in the older man's face. "Who are you calling so short he's like a speck of dust on a blade of grass?!" His temper was in full swing.

While most everybody nervously laughed and ignored a cold sweat, Mustang looked Full Metal in the eyes. For a moment, he looked like he was going to be serious...for a moment. He hunched down a bit and compared their heights in a display of overzealous acting. He made a show of the fact that the young blond was still shorter. "Huh? You've actually grown a bit."

Edward clapped his hands together and formed a blade out from his automail arm. "You want some'a this, huh?!" He was low in his fighting stance watching as his supposed superior placated him with raised hands.

"Whoa, whoa, I didn't come here to fight." Despite his mirthful expression, Mustang was solemnly observing the wayward youth. Evaluation complete, his face contorted to match the seriousness of the situation. "I take it Sheska's filled you in on the situation?"

Edward groused before resetting his automail arm and folding his arms across his chest. "Yeah, she told me." He looked to Winry as she set a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Even after death, that Dante woman manages to set Amestris back a good bit." He sighed. "...but some old clown told us about what happened to Jeremiah."

The blond woman beside him sighed. "Edward, that's rude." His full name, she was scolding him. "Besides, Roy might know him. He called himself Kenneth Troy." She barely resisted spinning around and knocking her childhood friend off his feet when she heard the most unexpected person gasp.

Sheska had her hands over her mouth as she realized she just brought attention to herself. When the Flame motioned for her to explain, she bowed slightly and did followed the recommendation. "I'm sorry; Troy is part of..." She paused. "...Maes' former network. I met him one time, and, well...he's still gathering information for Lieutenant General Mustang..." She didn't want to reveal too much, and she was nervous enough as it was.

Mustang shook his head. "The old dog's still around, and he's stirring up as much trouble as ever it seems." He judged from their reactions that Kenneth was up to his old antics again. Winry, in particular, seemed upset at the old war veteran despite chiding Edward. He couldn't stop the smirk spreading across his face. "So, what he do this time?"

After their explanations, the Flame Alchemist whistled. He wasn't expecting some things, but he was still mildly impressed. He knew he could trust them even if it seemed farfetched that the old man could disappear from so many stories up. "The old dog always did have a few tricks up his sleeve."

Edward scoffed. "Yeah, whatever. It sounded more like the guy was hiding something to me." He narrowed his eyes as he thought of something. "If Shadows are involved, they aren't moving alone. If anything, they're probably _using_ whoever thinks he's in charge."

Mustang cupped his chin between forefinger and thumb. He knew the golden-eyed prodigy was about the only authority on the Gate, so he probably was the only one in Amestris with _any_ information on the Shadows that reside there. With a sigh, he turned. "Let's go, Ed. I think it's time we got the full story from both you _and_ Al."

"Wait!" Edward caught Flame by the shoulder. "Al's here? Where?!" He hadn't seen hide or hair of his little brother since returning through the Gate, and he was worried, near frantic.

As the Lieutenant General explained the situation with Alphonse, a woman with jet black hair and violet eyes watched. She was in an unassuming, earthen dress. Thinking she recognized the blond, she put on an exuberant smile and skipped lightly towards them. She made a beeline for the gifted Full Metal.

Taking notice, Riza stepped between the approaching woman and the sizable group. Stealthily, she reached for her pistol and released the safety. With a stern expression, she addressed the approaching stranger. She knew how to play her role, and, for the moment, her role was as bodyguard and secretary. "What business do you have with the Lieutenant General?"

The girl tilted her head to one side with a polite, sweat smile. She closed her eyes to magnify her gleeful expression. "Oh, I'm not here to see him, ma'am." She politely responded even as her thoughts differed. _"I have no interest in the Flame Cyclops."_ She knew exactly who he was.

Riza nodded but didn't let her guard drop for one second. She couldn't let go of the suspicion that something was wrong. "Why are you here, then? If you've come to pay your respects, I'm afraid Mister Twain's ceremony has concluded." Though she didn't drop her deadpan expression, she couldn't place her unease at a _lack_ of killing intent.

The girl shook her head in the negative. "Oh no, my name's Lilly." She figured introductions might be necessary to get anything done. "I just saw him..." She indicated the golden-eyed blond. "...and thought he looked a lot like my hero." She looked directly at him. "Are you? Are you the Full Metal Alchemist? Hero of the People?" She purposely used his title, knowing something of his ego.

Edward looked at her strangely. "I've never been called that by an Ishvallan before, but, yeah, that's what some call me." His tone of voice revealed no pompous ego. He seemed angrier at the title, like he hadn't lived up to it. In fact, he couldn't help but think of Lior, Nina, the other world, and all his other mistakes.

Lilly clapped her hands together. "Oh, wow! I heard you were dead!" She seemed genuinely excited. Then she looked at him with a sad pout. "Why would Ishvallans not call you a Hero? Weren't _you_ the one who finally brought peace between Ishval and Amestris?" Curiosity shone in her eyes as she searched for an answer.

Calvin and Cybil looked at each other confused. They weren't even sure the girl was Ishvallan to begin with, and Edward identified her heritage so easily. They were also sure they heard the worshipers of Ishvalla hated Alchemists, calling them heretics. The slightly older sister decided to speak up before the Full Metal answered. "Um, don't Ishvallans hate Alchemists?"

Lilly managed to look hurt. "You don't understand Ishvalla's teachings!" She mockingly posed as a lecturer, though not to insult the twins. "We simply condemn changing Ishvalla's perfect gifts. We can and _have_ lived in peace with Amestris and the Alchemists. _Someone_ just disrupted it years ago."

Edward grunted. "A lot of good I did. I just didn't like what Bradley was doing, and I barely managed to escape Scar alive." He paused for a moment as he remembered one of the reasons Ishvallans condemned Alchemy, at least among their tribe. The Philosopher's Stone was seen as a harbinger of both war and doom. He really agreed with them on that point.

Lilly smiled. "Isn't that enough? You fought the injustice you saw, and you made the Ishvallans who trusted in you proud." She looked pointedly towards the twins. "There's a reason he's called the Hero of the People. He's recognized wherever he goes because he hates injustice." She tilted her head one way as her smile broadened and eyes closed.

As if suddenly realizing something, her eyes went wide. "Oh, it's later than I thought!" She looked around somewhat frantically to identify exactly where she was before bowing politely. "I'm so sorry! I'd love to stay and chat, but daddy's expecting me at the shop!" She turned and ran down one street as she waved over her shoulder.

While waving back, Edward raised a brow. "Okay, that was weird." Winry promptly smacked his shoulder. Wincing in mock pain, he rubbed the supposedly sore spot. "Ouch! What was that for?"

She gave him an exasperated sigh and roll of the eyes before turning to the Flame. "You said you know where Al is, right?" He nodded, and she grabbed her childhood friend by the arm. "Come on, Ed! Let's go!" She eagerly tugged at him as Mustang mockingly smiled before turning. He was going to lead them to the shelter Alphonse was at without further comment.

As they walked away, they didn't notice the plain looking woman they had talked to watching them from a dark corner she ducked around. Her lips twitched with an expectant smirk. Her eyes twinkled with glee. "It was him! It was him!" She paused to tighten her hands into fists. Shadows swelled at her feet. "I found him!"

As she sunk into the shadows, bracers with knife-like claws appeared on her hands. Her earthen dress was replaced with bulky clothes to make her look more masculine. She had one thought on her mind. _"I have to tell Kingdom!"_

* * *

Seven silhouettes were seated around a table. While the silhouettes themselves were stable, the area they were in seemed to be a dimension not quite synchronized. The table they sat around, chairs they were seated in, and very space around them seemed to phase in and out of existence. It was little more than a haze, like a mirage created by light, heat, and the horizon.

The silhouettes defined the body build of each. There were four men and three women. The tallest of the group was a man, and he sat next to the shortest, most rotund man of the group. He, in turn, was seated next to the most well endowed female who was quite tall. Next were a girl and boy, only discernible by their hair style and slight differences in outline. The final two were a muscular man and average woman.

It was difficult to tell who was talking because of the properties of the place. The figures didn't move, either. As they spoke, echoes distorted their voices further. They always spoke in the same order, however.

"The Gate of Truth opened. Our Destined has returned!" An overly feminine voice spoke up first.

"We can't confirm that. We only felt one presence slip through." A young, shrill voice spoke.

"Yes. If anything, we should have felt two." A gruff voice added.

"It is hard to believe the Shadow spawn, but discounting his words is folly." Was that Lucifer?

"The brothers Elric are unlikely to let themselves become separate." A sweat, young voice chimed.

"We can sense Alchemists and Shadows, though. How could one of the brothers elude us?" A petite voice carefully inputted.

"That's most troubling. Should we assume the Gate of Truth has gifted our Destined?" A deep voice shook the table.

"Oh yes, certainly. The Gate of Truth needs him on this side."

"However, we must find him first before we can remove him from our enemies' grasp."

"The Shadows have already discovered our presence in Amestris. You ask the impossible!"

"Bah, as long as the Cardinal Points and Shadow Kingdom don't interfere…"

"What makes you think they won't? It's certainly important enough."

"We are strong enough to handle a single Cardinal Point, but Shadow Kingdom is another matter."

"We proceed with caution, then?"

For a moment, there was silence. Then, as one, they all spoke their agreement. "Yes, proceed with caution." The strange dimension distorted once, twice, thrice, and the occupants were gone. All that remained of their presence was the haze and furnishings.

* * *

The moment Edward saw Alphonse; he rushed to give him a brotherly embrace which was basically a well deserved noogie. The younger brother responded appropriately by trying to force the elder off. The moment they were separated; they looked at each other and laughed...before being nearly tackled to the ground in a warm embrace by their childhood friend.

The whole scene was heartwarming. Even Calvin and Cybil, at first sourly disapproving of the golden-eyed Alchemist, were forced to grudgingly accept what played out in front of them. It didn't help that their opinion had already been softened by the strangest of sources, an Ishvallan named Lilly.

Mustang, however, just _had_ to break up the touching reunion by clearing his throat. To his credit, he needed information, and he needed it _fast_. He had plans to use Winry's specialty to thoroughly investigate the gunship gifted by Corsair. "Full Metal, Al, now that you're both together, I'd like to hear _everything_ you've been up to for the last, oh, two-odd years."

They didn't go into too much detail, but they explained the important events. It wasn't nearly as abridged as it was the last time they 'visited' just shy of a year ago, but it still skimmed over details they found too trite. It was the past few days they, admittedly, embellished. They explained meeting Envy again, and begrudgingly giving him credit for their current locale.

There were questions from the peanut gallery, of course. Obviously, the automail mechanics were interested in the medical and mechanical advancements of the other world, especially the starry-eyed Winry. The military officers were interested the military and logistical nuances the brothers ran across. Sheska asked but didn't received any answers about the other worlds cryptology.

They were all equally interested in the meeting with the Christian priest.

By the end, Mustang had a serious look to his face as he scratched his chin. It was a lot of information to take in, and he was curious why a Homunculus would help an Alchemist he obviously so vehemently hated. He wondered it if was some sort of redemption, based on his choice of words. Deciding not to dwell on it, he turned to face Edward and Winry, specifically.

"I have a task for the both of you." He stated without preamble. "We've got some...guests. They have some pretty advanced stuff that I want Miss Rockbell to take a look at. Full Metal, I need you to investigate what you can on the Homunculus called Lucifer." He observed the disdain in the young man's eyes.

The Lieutenant General didn't give them time to respond. "We don't have a whole lot of information on these guys. We know they come from an island-state called Corsair, and we know they're heavily militaristic like Amestris." He looked directly at Winry. "They're more technologically advanced than us, but..." His gaze shifted to Edward. "...they're alchemy is behind ours."

The young adults nodded, digesting the information. It was Alphonse who spoke up next. "You said their alchemy isn't as advanced as our, right?" Mustang nodded, and Alphonse tilted his head to one side in curiousity. "Even so, they still managed to produce a Homunculus..." His elder brother looked up, wide-eyed. "Human Transmutation is pretty advanced. Right, brother?"

Edward fisted his hands by his side. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and looked into the soothing eyes of his childhood friend. His hardened eyes turned towards the Flame. "Al's got a point. They might still behind us in sheer ability, but they have some Alchemists strong enough to open the Gate."

Mustang nodded. "Then I can trust you two to investigate?" He received nods of affirmation. A confident smirk crossed his face. "Excellent. I can expect some noteworthy news soon, then. I'll assign Hawkeye, Sheska, and Armstrong to watch Winry." His subordinates bobbed their heads in quick understanding. Then he looked over his shoulder as Fuery walked into the shelter. "I've got other things to take care of."

With their assignments passed out, the group split up. Mustang followed Fuery outside where the rest of his men were waiting. Breda, Havoc, and Falman politely bowed their heads a fraction before following their esteemed leader. Riza and Sheska lead Winry and her troupe and Armstrong to the gunship landing site. Alphonse handed Edward a sheet of paper Mustang left behind, and they followed the instructions to find Lucifer's holding area.

They all felt like it was going to be a _long_ day.

* * *

Steel Claw waited patiently in the shadows for her likeminded comrades to arrive. She was surprised to find Kingdom and Blade were the last show up, but she wasn't about to question her superiors. She knew her place, unlike some people. She waited patiently as everybody took their appropriate spots.

When everybody was arranged properly, Kingdom stood in the middle and stared directly at the one who called the meeting. "Arbitrator Steel Claw, you called this meeting." All eyes were drawn to her, but she did not flinch. "What do you have to report that's so important to disrupt our duty?"

She raised her head and looked her leader in the eyes. She wasn't afraid, and she barely contained her gleeful expression. She had news she had _beaten_ the supposedly clairvoyant Blade to. "I saw Edward Elric and confirmed his presence." She was positively exuberant hearing the gasps and whispers fill the room. They most certainly hadn't expected her announcement.

Kingdom carefully nodded his head. He was forced to consider all the possibilities, so he turned to his right hand. The smaller armored figure shook his or her head. The report couldn't be confirmed so easily. "How did you confirm Edward Elric's presence? Did you engage him?"

Steel Claw actually scoffed. "I'm not stupid enough to ruin our plans…" She paused to cast a scornful gaze to one she saw as a failure. "…unlike _some_ people." She returned a level gaze to the commander. "I know his importance to our plan. I approached him as 'Lilly' and confirmed who he was with his other nicknames, Full Metal and Hero of the People."

Scythe wisely remained silent, despite the hateful glare he received. He'd take it. He knew he'd have the chance to redeem himself, and he would _not_ receive Judgment. He was actually surprised to hear Lance speak up. "Was it wise to approach as your tainted shell? You might have revealed us."

Again, she felt all eyes on her. She was prepared with an answer, however. "I knew the risk, and I knew I had no choice." She turned a questioning gaze to Blade. "Somehow, his presence slipped past us. You haven't been able to confirm him yet?" She leaned back a bit when she received an affirmative nod. "He didn't seem to recognize me, so he probably doesn't know any Shadows are present."

Kingdom nodded, the atmosphere electric. He was as calm and stoic as ever, unreadable. Blade, his right hand, was as androgynous and neutral as ever, looking absently at the floor in vague disinterest. No, the air was charged by the excitement the peons gathered around the powerful leader felt. To those named after instruments of death, it was exhilarating.

After a long moment of silence, their armor-clad leader spoke. "With the return of Edward Elric, we shall move into the second stage of our plan." He carefully listened to the whispers from his subordinates. "The humans will learn our wrath for trespassing where they don't belong. It is time to remove the Consulate." He turned to the informant. "Pick your target."

Steel Claw wasted no time as a cruel smirk crossed her face. "Lloyd Furr…" Her voice dripped venom as she recalled _his_ transgressions. As a Shadow Host, he managed to cause a great deal of damage to Scythe, and he had ever so temporarily scarred her face. Worse, he had to have used Human Transmutation to draw Blunt into his body. Worst, he wasn't a Shadow Incarnate, and he still managed to nearly _kill_ her foolish comrade.

Kingdom nodded. He was secure in the knowledge that she could remain levelheaded in a fight despite her rage. He still felt he had to reiterate a word of warning. "Do not take him lightly. He was a famed Alchemist before his fall from glory, and he's still respected among certain circles. Besides, I think we all remember the rooftop incident several nights ago."

They remembered, and Scythe felt like shrinking from their intense stares. They were angry and hateful, but they were not lost to the reality. Not even able to tap into his full strength, Blunt managed to fight as a Shadow Host and come to a draw against _two_ Shadow Incarnates. It was embarrassing, but his fighting skill was very impressive.

Scythe, however, was reminded of something else. He was denied his revenge. He wasn't afraid of Blunt. He _had_ underestimated him, but it was a mistake he wouldn't make again. Instead, the same one who rescued him, though still embarrassed, was to get her revenge. He was left with little recourse.

Steel Claw, however, was not one to underestimate her opponents. "Consulate Lloyd Furr and Blunt do make a good team, and they proved even a Shadow Host can overcome a Shadow Incarnate. I _will_ not underestimate them, unlike a certain someone." Her lips twitched as she inwardly reminded herself that she had underestimated them in their weakened state.

She felt Kingdom's angry glare, but Lance spoke up in her defense. "To be fair, she only got involved when it looked like Arbitrator Scythe's death knell was to sound. Consulate Lloyd Furr looked on death's door, so there was no way to know he had any alchemy left in him."

Kingdom, after a moment's thought, nodded. "Yes, anyone can make that mistake." He looked directly at the Shadow most in the room regarded as a failure. "You have one chance to redeem yourself, Arbitrator Scythe. Your next assignment is Consulate Julian Rivers, and you are to assume he's like Consulate Lloyd Furr."

Scythe nodded dully. He was being given the _easiest_ assignment and told to treat it as the hardest. He was expected to believe success meant redemption. He vaguely heard the other assignments passed out. He looked up in surprise and blinked when Blade was not given an assignment. "Wait, isn't Arbitrator Blade supposed to take somebody out?"

He felt the cold glares from his supposed comrades, but he did not flinch. He found it strange that Kingdom and Blade gave him impassive stares. No, Blade wasn't even looking his way. After what felt an eternity of heated glowers, their leader finally spoke up. "Arbitrator Blade's assignment is special. Based on circumstances, we may need to remove Amestris' civilian _and_ military heads."

They knew what his words meant. With the return of Edward Elric, their plan could move into the next phase. He was the key. With war looming in the world of technology, the world of alchemy was about to be awash with a sizable influx of energy. Soon, humanity would be punished for trespassing on hallowed ground.

The Consulate was a threat because it was a unified front. With the power vacuum caused by Fuhrer King Bradley's death, Amestris' population relied on that central pillar. Perhaps without realizing, the Council of Seven became the civilian head. Only a young political power, it had gained both acceptance and the resources to make the Shadow's movements difficult.

It didn't take a genius to figure out why they had gathered around the military head, instead. Even Scythe understood, and Steel Claw and Lance easily called him an idiot. General Kelly Westford was alone, standing divided from his supposed comrades. He still believed in the late Fuhrer's ideals and was constantly at odd with the Consulate.

He was the Glass Alchemist and, though weaker than his student, held fast to his pride. He wanted to punish the people of Amestris for abandoning their great leader, and Mustang's forgiveness, acceptance, and promotion only fueled his hatred. Though his hatred originally made him useful, it had the potential to develop into a threat.

In a hundred alchemists, maybe one could open the Gate. Of a hundred that could open the Gate, maybe one would survive with his or her soul in tact. Kingdom had made very clear. Though Roy Mustang had not opened the Gate of Truth himself, he still set eyes upon it...and kept hold of his sanity.

Mustang, in addition to the brothers Elric, was a candidate to be a catalyst for the punishments humans so rightly deserved.

Westford always wanted Mustang dead, but the promotion of Bradley's killer left a bitter taste in his mouth that magnified it to uncontrollable extremes. Kingdom related the change in simple terms. If things got out of hand, Blade was to eliminate Amestris' military head with extreme prejudice as a threat.

The black fire of Kingdom's eyes slowly fell on each of his subordinates. "Be wary of the coming events. The arrival of a third party could set into motion a poor scenario for carrying out our ambitions. Amestris' is on guard, and many necessary pieces are on the move."

The armored hulk turned, metal shifting and clinking. The smaller armored figure next to him looked up as if curious. For the briefest of moments, he looked at the figure's unseen eyes. "If you run across a Shadow who doesn't fight for our ideals, you have permission to eliminate it. Dismissed."

The finality of his statement wasn't missed, and the Seven Judges, except Blade, faded into shadows to leave. Kingdom kept staring ahead as Blade's androgynous voice echoed through the empty room. "Mustang's usefulness hasn't been determined. For now, the brothers Elric should be enough." The smaller armored figure paused for a moment. "Is it okay not to tell them about the Homunculus?"

Kingdom nodded. "Even as a unique existence, that creature wouldn't seek out that which it innately fears." He paused as a thought occurred to him. "Even if I did, the blood hungry would seek it out in spite of any warnings. After all, it is a manifestation of humanities' trespasses, and the Seven Judges gathered to eradicate such things."

As Blade's head hung in contemplation, the conversation seemed to end. They faded into the shadows. Their meeting hall was emptied of occupants as each went about carrying out orders. The only proof of their presence was the slight indentations left in the wood where the armored Kingdom and Blade stood longest.

* * *

The sun was shining. The birds were singing. The world moved, and time stopped for no man. It was a beautiful scene Lloyd looked out on. He was both pleased and saddened by the revelation that the world continued its eternal course. His friend, Jeremiah, was dead, and there was nothing he could have done to prevent it.

He had fought those monsters, for they could be described no other way, until they were forced to flee. He had injured one severely, but his companion and penance warned him the being was not dead. He barely scathed the second creature, and the third interfered in the last second to drag both to safety.

While reminiscing, he felt a new presence in the room. He looked to the windowsill to see an old man impossibly perched. He heard a name reverberate through his skull, but he didn't understand part of it. Even if Blunt was willing to provide names, Lloyd wanted to know what his human name might be.

The old man carefully slipped into the room; the automail covering most of the left side of his body groaned in protest. It was obvious maintenance had been performed recently, and he hadn't given the oil time to work into the joints. He could also have forgotten to oil it regularly and/or correctly.

As he approached the bed, he read what Lloyd was writing out from over the mute Alchemist's shoulder. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?" Lloyd eyed the old man suspiciously.

The old man's lips twitched as if he was trying to smirk, and his face had a hint of merriment. "Ah, but I'm sure Blunt has told you who I am already. My friends call me Ken, and Cross inhabits me for my sins." As Lloyd started to write out, Ken stopped him. "No offense to your wonderful speed writing and remarkable penmanship, but I have a faster way to communicate."

As Lloyd was about to query, black flames lit Ken's sclera. He jabbed his right hand forward, and it seemed to dissolve into shadow. A moment later, they seemed to be standing in front of the Gate of Truth, but no Alchemy was used. In fact, Blunt pointed out it was only an illusion brought by the presence of two Shadows in communication.

Ken nodded, and a smile came to his…unscarred face. Oddly, the only automail on his body was from the left elbow down, and his scleras were still defined by black flames. "Ah, this'll be _much_ better. We can talk freely here." He noticed the look on his companion's face and looked to his automail. "This is an old war injury from before I received Cross."

Lloyd nodded his understanding. "I'm sorry…" He trailed off, apologizing for imposing. He leveled his gaze with the old man's eyes. "Ken, huh?" The old man nodded. "What are you doing here? Are you with the Seven Judges?"

Ken scoffed. "As if." He seemed genuinely insulted. "No, I don't agree with their methods. I came, simply, to ask Blunt for the names of the Shadows who attacked you. I might be able to identify who's behind this attack if I knew."

There was silence for a moment as Lloyd spoke with Blunt. "We fought Scythe, but we couldn't land the finishing blow. Steel Claw and Lance interfered." He sighed. He knew how troublesome the situation was. As he had barely even grazed Scythe's heart, he was likely already recovered.

Ken scratched his chin in an automail gauntlet. "Steel Claw and Scythe are under the Northern Commander, but Lance belongs to the Eastern Commander…" He returned a curious glare to the mute Alchemist. "Are you sure?" He received a nod in answer. "This is troubling…"

His eyes widened, and he turned in surprise. The illusion around them melted, and they both witnessed Steel Claw perched in the windowsill. She glared heatedly at Lloyd as she addressed Ken. "Lord Cross, I was unaware you came to this world." She noticed him twitch out of the corner of her eye. "Please, stay your sword. For now, I only wish to speak."

When he settled, she laughed inwardly. _"Of course, he's still on guard. I'll have to make this quick."_ She raised her arms to mollify. "If you can bring Blunt partially out, I want to speak with him." She went silent and stood perfectly still.

Lloyd and Ken gave each other a look before nodding. Reluctantly, the mute Alchemist clapped his hands together. He used one hand to lead from his larynx to his wrist where blood and a black substance slowly oozed. Once enough material collected, the hilt of a sword forged itself from the collective substances.

Steel Claw recoiled from the bitter smell of copper as it mixed with the smell of the Gate. It was repugnant to think human tainted such perfection. Her face soured as the atmosphere grew heavy. Finally, she spoke. "When will you be able to fight?"

The question nearly brought Ken's ire, but Blunt stayed his punishment with a question. "Why? You could strike me down now, but it sounds like you want some kind of rematch." He knew she disagreed with Scythe on the roof the other night, but she was ready and willing to end Lloyd's life and send him back to the Gate of Truth then.

She nodded her head simply. "That's exactly what I want." She eyed Ken warily before returning her icy glower to the partially formed weapon Blunt placed himself in. "I'm not satisfied with a draw, and I only stepped in because Scythe was proving worthless."

"You attempted to finish things on the roof. You were about to strike me while I was down then. Why should things be different now?" He knew he couldn't lock gazes, but he could imagine the fury he'd direct toward her.

"True." She acquiesced, not bothered by the accusation. "At the time, you were interfering with the mission and an unassigned target. Now, you are assigned to me, and Scythe successfully completed his mission." She paused to assess him. "I ask again. When will you be recovered enough to fight?"

A heavy silence filled the room. Steel Claw waited patiently for Blunt's answer while remaining fully alert for any movement from Ken. Her gaze was locked on the hilt that represented the Shadow she had challenged. After what felt like an eternity to all parties involved, he spoke. "Lloyd's body must recover first. Unlike Scythe, it'll take a few days."

Steel Claw nodded. She gave Ken one, last questioning look before returning her attention to her target's tenant. "I'll check on you in two days. At that time, we'll fight." Her body dissolved into shadow, and she was gone from the hospital room.

When he could feel her presence no more, Ken turned to Lloyd. "Are you sure that's okay? I've got some companions with me, and we're seeking out the Shadow presence here in Central. We could buy you some time or completely remove them before they have the chance."

Lloyd shook his head, and Blunt spoke for him. "No, it's okay. We made our bed of thorns when we challenged Scythe to protect Jeremiah. We must lie in it now, for his sake as well as ours." Lloyd's expression turned as serious as Blunt's voice. "Besides, there are bigger things happening if Shadows are aligning to take sides like this."

Ken sighed. "You're right." He paused and nodded. "You're right." He hung his head with a resigned expression. "I was hoping to recruit you to fight the Homunculus and secure Edward Elric, but you made that choice to fight Steel Claw." Before Blunt could answer, he held his hand up to interrupt. "Now, withdraw to heal Lloyd faster. You'll need all the energy you can get."

With slight hesitation, Lloyd flicked the center of the hilt. The shadow material retracted into his body, and the blood lost cohesion and soaked into his bed sheets. He bowed his head and made a solemn vow. He was going to defeat Steel Claw and find out where Scythe was. If possible, he was going to avenge Jeremiah.

He looked up startled when Ken's face came within an inch of his. "You don't have to say anything, just listen." He paused to await Lloyd's affirmative nod. "Good, now listen up. There's a Homunculus in town calling himself Lucifer, and he seems to come from Corsair. If you see him, run. That's right, just run. He's a rather unique existence."

He paused and backed up to the window. As he leaned against the open portal, he continued. "In case I fail to take him out, this is what you'll need to know. First, he…"

* * *

Edward looked at the tent, _tent_, Alphonse directed him toward. It was surrounded by guards, none of whom he recognized. He observed them for several long minutes before coming to a conclusion. "Not a single one of them are Alchemists, Al." He heaved a sigh and resigned himself to his fate.

The younger brother tilted his head to one side. "What's wrong with that, brother? I'm sure Mustang trusts his men to handle things, and the Homunculus hasn't tried anything yet." Truthfully, he was worried. He just wanted his older brother to think for a moment.

"That's exactly the point, Al!" He didn't quite yell as he palmed his face. It was frustrating in the worst way. "We don't even know what this Homunculus is capable of. We don't even know what his plans are, Al. For all we know, he's just biding his time."

"Well, what should we do, brother?" He sounded worried as a chill ran down his spine. He knew how dangerous Homunculi were. There were six under Dante, and a seventh acted on his own. They were all formidable enemies, and he did not relish the idea of fighting even one of them over again.

"I'm not sure, Al." He sighed. "That chauvinist wants us to 'investigate' this Homunculus." He pulled at his hair in frustration. "Ugh, he's just throwing off his responsibility on us again!" No doubt about it, he felt fully at home again. He hated being used, but it was a small price to pay to be near Winry again.

He heaved a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Come on Al, let's get this over with." Fingering the pocket watch identifying himself as a State Alchemist, he confidently strode forward. His brother wasn't far behind him. The entire way he was thinking about how uncanny the situation was.

Homunculi were vicious fighters, when they wanted to be. They had powerful, near-immortal bodies, and each possessed an ability all his or her own. Though their personalities differed, they either had wit or relied on the wit of others. They were also monsters who relied on human souls to stay alive.

If Corsair was using a Homunculus among its military ranks, he had to wonder how far down the chain of command such knowledge went. At some point, incomplete or whole Philosopher's Stones had to be fed to the creature, and that took great alchemic knowledge and several sacrifices.

Approaching the guards outside the tent, Edward flashed the only identification he needed. Across Amestris, _everybody_ recognized the State Alchemists' pocket watch. He only hoped he looked 'more the part' than he did when he first earned the badge of state. He was older and less naive than so many years ago, but he wondered what the soldiers saw.

Immediately on seeing the unmistakable badge of state, the soldiers went to attention. The highest rank, a Second Lieutenant, nervously approached. "Sir, we were told not to let anybody in or out of the area. I'm afraid I can't let you approach any closer, sir." He swallowed fearfully. Even if he had a battalion, a State Alchemist would tear through them without one to match.

Edward resisted the urge to palm his face. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, I don't really care. Mustang asked us to investigate the Homunculus you have holed up in there." He immediately spotted the greener of the troops as their eyes widened at intelligence the young alchemist wouldn't have had without orders. "Listen, I don't like the situation any more than you do, but we need more information on that thing."

The Lieutenant nodded. "Of course, sir." He used hand signs to tell his men to get back to their posts. He was annoyed to have new recruits on such an important mission detail. He wasn't sure what his commanders were thinking, but he dared not question orders. "If you know about the Homunculus, I'm sure Lieutenant General Mustang gave you the necessary papers, sir."

Edward was at a loss for a moment, but soon rage showed on his face. He was ready to storm off to throttle the Flame Alchemist when Alphonse put a calming hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, brother. Mustang included it in the directions." He stepped forward and handed the papers to the Lieutenant with a smile. "Here you go."

The Lieutenant carefully scrutinized the paperwork. Lieutenant General Mustang's official mark was affixed to the orders. However, he found himself at a loss for words. If he was reading correctly, the boys in front of him were Major Edward Elric, Full Metal Alchemist, and his younger brother, Alphonse Elric.

He lifted his gaze to scrutinize the boys. They matched the last known descriptions of the brothers Elric. He was having trouble believing they were for a simple reason. They had disappeared some time ago without a trace. Shortly thereafter, Mustang, then thought of as a defector, went into hiding after a stunning military victory over unknown adversaries.

With a breath, he closed his eyes. His next words were mumbled under his breath. "Stranger things have happened…" He looked back to the orders then to the boys. They matched the descriptions of the brothers Elric, and one held the official badge of state identifying State Alchemists. "Sir, please follow me."

He led them to the tent before stopping outside to give them a final warning. "I'm sure I don't have to tell you how dangerous a Homunculus can be. However, he hasn't done anything hostile, and I'd like to keep it that way. I have the lives of my men to consider, sir." He hoped his words didn't sound threatening. He knew he couldn't threaten a State Alchemist, and it wasn't really his intention.

Edward rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, let us in already!" He practically shoved his way past the Lieutenant and threw the tent flaps open. He heard his brother apologize for them behind him even as he rested his gaze on the plump man in a business suite. "So, you're the Homunculus I've been hearing about?"

Lucifer stood, wide-eyed. There was wild gleam to his eyes as he excitedly rushed for the young Alchemist. Before he could do anything, a blade was firmly held before his face. "Not another step, Homunculus. I don't know why you're here, but it certainly can't be good."

The chubby creature bobbed his head vigorously. "Yes, yes, of course, all in good time!" He sounded excited as he turned and quickly waddled to the nearby table. He pulled out one chair. "Sit, sit!" He nearly jumped in glee as he took the other chair. "Oh, you too young Alphonse, I've been waiting for you two."

As the brothers warily took the offered seats, the Homunculus surprisingly spoke. "Now, where should I start?" He snapped his fingers in a show of sudden inspiration. "Yes, I know! The beginning, it's always best to start at the beginning!" He eyed them slyly. "I bet you have tons of questions for me. All in time, all in time."

He nodded sagely as he continued unabashed. "Where am I from? Why was I created? What ability do I have? Why am I helping Corsair, or at least her military? What do I have to gain from all this?" He wagged his finger. "I'll be glad to tell you!" He leaned back to watch the young Alchemists, his features creased by his wide smile.

Finally, Edward spoke up. "You seem to know an awful lot about us. To my knowledge, we've never met. Amestris also didn't know about Corsair until now. How do you know so much about us? How can you speak our language so smoothly?" He took a deep breath. "I also have to admit; _your_ questions are certainly of interest."

If it were possible, Lucifer's smile grew. "Dear Edward Elric, you are most interesting indeed. No, more than anything else…_you_ are the reason I exist." He chucked at their startled reactions. "No, you didn't create me intentionally or otherwise. I was created in Corsair by…careless Alchemists. Now Edward and Alphonse, let's talk about why we're here…"

* * *

Screams of misery pervaded the dark house. In sunnier times, day or night, the house was a warm, welcoming abode. The pained cries of the woman inside couldn't be drowned out by the enveloping shadows or drawn curtains. The anguished sobs seemed to flood the atmosphere as thunderheads far above bellowed in protest.

No starlight or moonlight illuminated the house made dreary with torment. Flashes of light gave a greenish glow to the yellow shingles. Nearby rumbles, created from air crashing into a vacuum, shook the sturdy foundation. Soon, the pitter-patter of falling water droplets cascaded against wood and glass.

The misery within was repeated without.

Throughout the sanctuary of the home, furnishings were strewn about as if a small tornado thrashed its way through the halls and room. Empty picture frames lay shattered on the ground. Albums lay on their spine to reveal their contents to the night air. The localized tornado seemed to stop in the living room.

A woman was huddled in a corner holding tightly a still shot of life to her bosom. She wept for what was torn asunder, and she found no comfort for the gaping hole in her heart. Her chin quivered as fresh sobs escaped her throat, and fresh tears sprang from ducts she thought dried.

As lightning flashed, the light filtered through the curtains enough to reveal her state of dress. Her summer dress was torn and bloodstained. A thin slice revealed where a blade had nearly cut her bra string off her shoulder. Her undergarments, however, were still in tact. The offending blade was in her hand and covered in more blood than her minor injuries suggested.

As another bolt of lightning passed through the heavens, a cold, dead body was revealed in the center of the room. She had lost track of how many hours had passed. She had lost track of how long his stench wafted through the room. Worse, she had lost track of how long it had been since he delivered the heart wrenching news.

He hadn't lied, of that she was sure. He had decided to play the roll of 'comforter' after delivering the news he had been asked to. She had been so shocked she never noticed him slip in and close the door behind him. She didn't notice him caress her or kiss her until his lips were on hers.

She screamed and kicked and punched and scratched. She fought to get away, but he had grown enraged. She defended herself as best she could, but he was stronger. He got a hold of one of the blades in the kitchen and threatened her with it. When he went to cut one of the straps protecting her modesty, she kneed him _hard_ between the legs.

He was down, and she could have run for it. In her grief and hatred, she stabbed. She stabbed him again and again and again. Repeatedly, she drove the knife into his body as deeply as she could. As realization came to her and her muscles grew taut, she ran to the restroom to empty the contents of her stomach.

Not long after, she found herself at the dry sink in the main entrance. She took the last picture she had taken of her and her beloved. After removing it from the frame, she dropped it to shatter across the floor. She staggered throughout the house, knocking things from their resting place. If she bumped into something, she flipped it in a brief instant of rage and continued on.

She didn't remember how she ended up in the same room as the man who tried to take advantage of her in her grief, but she had. As her mind unclouded, she began to see it as a mixed blessing. She stood and let the last thread of her summer dress snap. She staged across the room and ignored her dress as it slid down and eventually off her frame.

She reached a writing desk and pushed it aside. Behind it, she clicked a hidden switch to reveal a secret compartment. From within the cubby, she withdrew a scroll from her forgotten art. She had studied it long ago, but she gave it up when she met and fell in love with her beloved.

Stumbling back across the room, she unfurled the tattered parchment, ignoring the bits that fell to the floor. Through a haze, she carved an alchemic circle around the cold, dead body. A mad cackle escaped her throat as she completed the writ for alchemic energy.

Her head rolled as her eyes fluttered. Shaking from her stupor, she finally dropped the knife and knelt before the complex circle. With a final glance at the scroll, she dropped it. The dry paper soaked up blood like a sponge, but she paid it no mind. She concentrated on the task she set herself to.

With a push of will, the room became alight with alchemic energy. It arched and danced wildly. It collected her will and coalesced into a dreamscape before her. A sudden an intense pain wracked her body, and she arched her back as she opened her mouth to a soundless scream.

Her vision went white, and she realized she was in some immense room. Standing tall and proud before her vision was a wide, tall gate. She blinked in wonder as it slowly opened and revealed a woman who looked exactly like her. Except, the woman was unmarred by recent events.

She was a tall woman with a feminine frame. Her raven black hair was cut off at the small of her back and tied into a long ponytail. Her bangs highlighted her stunning emerald eyes prettily, and her bangs framed her face and gently cascaded down the front of her shoulders. She smiled warmly.

"You've made a very, very bad mistake." The doppelganger spoke softly as she walked forward. "I'm afraid I'm going to need to borrow your body. Don't worry, you'll have the chance to be reborn and reunited with your soul mate. Now then, let's see if you should be my host or if I should incarnate within."

As the doppelganger walked forward, the woman couldn't move a muscle. Soon, they occupied the same space. The gate slammed closed, and the white background faded into the dreary room she had been mourning in. She released a heavy breath and opened her eyes. Her scleras were accentuated by black flames.

She looked blankly at the body on the floor. "Humans are such frail beings. They can be driven to do what they never would with grief and misery." She looked to one side to see a broken and shattered mirror. She could barely make the figure she occupied. Observing the image reflected back, she cupped her breasts and scrutinized them.

With a huff, she threw her hair over her shoulders. "I suppose this body'll do." With a pause of resignation, she looked back to the body as it warmed and grew animated. His hair was slowly darkening to chestnut brown, and his eyes were already that same color. His body was slimming as blood was sucked in, glowing ominously.

She grasped her knees as she sank down to eye level. "I see. I'm sorry, but it seems you'll be so very lonely without him." She liked her lips. "I can see him now. He was certainly handsome, a little effeminate though." She closed her eyes and looked inward. "You want to see him again; don't you? You would do anything to see him."

She stood. "Very well! I take this body not as a host but as an incarnate. The soul will reside within the Gate of Truth until the end of my judgment, and she will be reborn to be reunited with her soul mate."

With a whoosh of inexplicable wind, her hair fluttered. She saw the vague outline of the Gate of Truth, and the soul of the woman whose body she took shambled towards it. The greedy hands of lesser shadows reached out and drew her within, but they followed the orders of the one who sent her on her way.

She dismissed the vision with a sad smile before crouching next to the misshapen man. "Poor child, she knew naught her sins." She petted his chestnut brown hair, and he grasped her arm with a hungry glower to his eyes. In an instant, his body was engulfed in white-hot light. She very lightly intoned his demise. "Judgment."

As the body disintegrated and returned to its base components, she stood once again and clapped her hands to rid them of filth. "We can't be having any extra Homunculi running around, now can we?" With a spring in her step, she skipped over to the broken mirror. "Oh, this won't do. This won't do at all."

She pressed her hand against a particularly sharp shard and let her blood flow from the small wound. It closed up quickly enough, but it had the desired effect. The broken shards collected and coalesced into one, solid pane. She looked her figure over with the unbroken reflection. She frowned slightly.

"Ah, that's the wrong shade of hair!" She whined as she twirled around. The ponytail bounced with momentum and gravity as she came to a stop. Her frown became a pout. "I'll have to cut it, too. It looks like the poor child did a number on her hair."

Unlike the doppelganger's image earlier, the woman's hair was badly frayed and unevenly cut. Her ponytail was immaculate, but her bangs and sideburns were mismatched. Her hair was pulled, matted, and/or badly crooked. Her usual immaculate appearance was thoroughly shattered in her grief.

She turned on her heals and headed towards the stairs. "There's no point stressing myself too much. I can take a hot shower and meet up with the others later." She licked her lips. "I wonder if everybody else is here yet. If I had the Right-Hand of the South, I might be able to find them a lot faster."

She disappeared around the corner as she was removing her undergarments. Shortly thereafter, the sound of running water could be heard as she prepared to shower or draw a bath.

* * *

This...chapter...fought me every inch of the way! It also competed with me for attention as _Bleach: Twilight of Mixing Time_ also wanted my attention, and I got a new idea for (of all things) a _Code Geass_ fan fiction (which will probably be finished near the end of summer). A lot of my original characters wanted their back stories to come out a lot sooner than I want them to, and Lloyd's not helping by being a big jerk to everybody about how he got some spotlight. Ugh, wish me luck... I'll need it.

The last section was not what I originally envisioned for the particular character introduced. It works better, though. I wonder if anybody will figure out who the woman was before the Shadow took her.

Expect the next chapter to show what Mustang and Winry's groups are up to. It's all plot-centric! I sincerely hope you continue to enjoy!

**Blatant Self Promotion:** Anybody who likes this fiction might want to check out _Bleach: Twilight of Mixing Time_.

I appreciate comments and constructive criticism, but outright flames will be ignored.

Story Word Count: 10,016  
Story Page Count: 21.5


	9. Chapter 8: Corrosive

This chapter has been a long time coming. I truly am sorry for the delay.**  
**

* * *

**Corrosive**

The streets were practically empty as Mustang walked beside Fuery. While under martial law, a strict curfew was in effect. It was necessary with the murder of a member of the Consulate and arrival of self-declared dignitaries from Corsair. There were too many unknowns, and only military personnel freely roamed the streets. The citizens did not resist nor complain. It was necessary for their defense and safety.

Even in near desolate streets, they walked swiftly and silently. While they knew Kelly Westford, the Glass Alchemist, was the ringleader of a pro-Dante faction within the military, they were not a hundred percent sure who among the lower ranks followed him. They also had no evidence that Westford loyalists were involved in Jeremiah Twain's murder. Instead, they hurried to their meeting place with Falman, Breda, and Havoc.

As they arrived, Mustang pulled his gloves on tighter and noticed the growing darkness of the twilight sky. As Fuery opened the door to their meeting place, he absently looked to the sky. The clouds slowly spreading across the waning light were dark and ominous. They showed signs of a coming storm, and early signs of its severity rumbled in the distance. However, they had no time to appreciate the power of nature. They had their own tasks to accomplish.

The warmth of shelter welcomed them as they crossed the threshold. They had not even recognized the chill in the air outside until they were practically in the halls leading to the provisional headquarters for the newly appointed Lieutenant General. Fuery freely shivered to throw off the last dregs of the feeling of the approaching storm. He barely stopped himself from sneezing at seeing his commander unfazed. He was still the commanding presence they all remembered and longed to follow once more.

Once they entered the office at the end of the hall, Breda carefully closed and secured the door behind them. Havoc gave them a thumbs up, and Falman exited a room in the back while wiping his hands on a brown rag slightly discolored red in the center. Mustang gave them a knowing nod before walking to the large desk near the window to the side. As he sat, he motioned for them to give their respective reports.

"We know a lot more than we did before." Breda began. He pulled a small container from a satchel hanging from his belt. The material was special, flame retardant and anti-static. It was the bread-and-butter of demolitions specialists. He pulled out a small sample of the substance contained within and placed it on the desk. "This is what those guys pass for explosives."

Mustang observed it. He leaned down and got as close as he dared. Even a breath away, he could not see the danger. The explosives he knew were liquid, gas, or powdered solid. He was looking at something he could only describe as gelatinous. He had never heard tale of explosives anything like what he was seeing. However, stranger things had happened. The first time he saw a Philosopher's Stone was also as a gelatinous substance. Though it was unstable and broke down randomly, it gave Alchemists a tremendous boost in their alchemic ability.

"Frankly, this stuff is amazing and scary." Breda continued with a shrug. "I didn't believe it at first, but a handful of this stuff is more destructive than a barrel of gunpowder." Mustang immediately backed into a proper sitting position. "Ah, no need to worry. It needs the proper stimulus to go off."

The Flame Alchemist nodded. He did not want to test the substance in such a confined space. Instead, he was more interested in its components. He could break it down himself with an alchemy circle, but it was useless unless they could reproduce it en masse. "Can we make more of it? What applications might it have?"

Breda rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I don't think we have the equipment to refine it. If we don't do it just right, it could go off and do a lot of damage." He sighed heavily. "As for practical application, I can imagine quite a lot. Never mind military use, it could revolutionize mining operations. It requires less substance and _space_, and it's easy to shape charges. These Corsair guys are something else."

Mustang nodded. "Well, we know they aren't as advanced in alchemic knowledge. While we've been able to rely on Alchemists' ability to shape the world around us, they've been forced to rely more on human ingenuity." He also knew Alchemists allowed Amestris to mine efficiently. There were few wasted materials in spite of heavy blasting. Corsair needed more compact explosives to properly supply her people and war efforts.

"They don't just have more advanced explosives." Havoc started at an unspoken signal. Attention in the room focused on him. "I've never seen weapons like theirs before. From initial tests, I'd say they have higher rates of fire, greater ammunitions stores, and lower failure rates. I can't begin to identify some of the mechanisms, but they are just as easy to disassemble and reassemble for cleaning as any weapon I've seen."

Again, Mustang nodded without a hint of surprise. The differences between alchemic states and non-alchemic states were like a balancing act. They had never seen such advanced technology up front because they were not on great terms with their non-alchemic neighbors, like Dorakuma. On that same token, Dorakuma was not on good terms with its alchemic neighbors and had only seen advanced alchemy the hard way.

War was not the best environment to learn through observation. At best, both sides found new ways to use their strengths or counter against their weaknesses. Mustang saw the reasons clearly. It was about reliance. What was and was not necessary varied from culture to culture. Alchemy was the culture dominating Amestris. Religion was the culture dominating Ishval. Technology was the culture dominating Corsair. They had their own ideas of what was important and what was not.

He turned his attention specifically to Falman. The Chief Warrant Officer nodded and tossed the rag he had wiped his hands with to the wastebasket near their commanding officer's desk. "Not many of their men speak our language, and those that do are very well trained to resist most interrogation methods. Even then, they don't know a lot of our language."

He shook his head. "Limited as I was in interrogation methods and with language barriers, I was able to learn some things about their culture." Everybody understood what he meant. They could not risk the possibility of alienating Corsair with an offered alliance, no matter how little faith they had in their Regent. "They are even more military minded than us. It seems everybody is required to serve in their armed forces, and that includes even members of the royal family, like Spartan Isovar."

Mustang leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh. It was not completely unexpected. It was still hard to believe that they would send somebody as important as a royal prince to a heavily armed and possibly hostile environment as a diplomat. It seemed more prudent to send less valuable ambassadors to soften the reception first. However, the Regent was not shy about his position. He even announced it rather casually.

However good Falman was, they had not really learned anything new. It was likely that Isovar very carefully selected who would and would not be allowed to learn the predominate language in Amestris. They were also most likely to be trained to resist interrogation methods a lot tougher than they were willing to use on perspective allies. They knew what they could and could not say. If they were going to get any cultural or military information, it was willingly and most likely through Isovar.

However, they could get some intelligence without first talking with Isovar or even his _Hoarfrost Gunship Fleet_. Mustang rested his gaze squarely on Fuery. The Master Sergeant nodded and pushed some manila folders on their commanding officer's desk towards the Lieutenant General. As the Flame Alchemist opened and started skimming through the contents, the communications specialist elaborated.

"They communicate on a frequency we don't use. It took some time to find it. We are guessing the reason is because they are flying under semi-strict communication restrictions. They don't open radio communications without meeting specific requirements. For example, they might need to confirm the exact locations of various ships in their fleet."

"…or they might need to confirm their commander's safety." Fuery only nodded to Mustang's inference. It was not a stretch by any means. Isovar even openly admitted that his fleet had to confirm with him with some level of regularity. They had considered letting him communicate with his fleet from one of the landed gunships, but they wanted more information before letting something like that happen.

"However, we did find the frequency they were using. It doesn't use much power, but it has a long reach due to wavelength and atmospheric bounce." Fuery sighed at the agitated looks he received. They were not interested in the science behind radio communication. "Communication between ships is exclusively in their language. Without a translator, knowing exactly what they're saying is going to take a while. However, I believe I've learned enough to hypothesize what they're talking about."

"I've provided the entire transcript of the communications we've overheard. I can't guarantee the spelling to be accurate, but I'm confident in my interpretation." He sighed to the incredulous looks he received. "Okay, it's not enough to go by as far as evidence goes. We don't speak the language, so it'll mostly be seen as conjecture until we can prove otherwise. However, we're more interested in defending Amestris than wasting time playing their games."

They were, of course, willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. He was, in their ever-humble opinion, the best when it came to language and communication. Still, they had no previous dealing with Corsair. They really were taking a shot in the dark. It was going to take all their combined skills to gain back any advantage Corsair had by employing a Homunculus. Thankfully, a strange insistence to see Edward Elric turned around a seemingly hopeless situation.

"Anyway…" Fuery continued with a heavy sigh while he rubbed the back of his neck. "I've managed to triangulate the positions of three gunships and estimate the quadrants several more occupy." He watched eyes narrow in trepidation. Nobody wanted to know the answer to the unasked question. The Master Sergeant answered anyway. "I don't know exact numbers as they've managed to maintain radio silence for the most part."

There were three on the ground outside Central. Even without knowing exact numbers, they knew the danger even one airship held. The scars from the last battle against one were not completely healed from the city streets after nearly a year. With six confirmed Corsair gunships, they were forced to soberly evaluate the situation. If Amestris and Corsair fought, it would be nothing like the stalemate between Amestris and Dorakuma.

Mustang pulled out a sheet of paper and unfolded it twice to reveal a map divided into quarters. There were four marks on the map; one was a large, thick circle around Central. The rest were large dots. Fuery elaborated for everybody in the room. "We know about the three outside Central. According to Isovar, one is a gift for us. The dots represent the exact locations of the other three."

"Wait…" Havoc spoke up. He walked over to Mustang's desk and looked at the map. The aforementioned marks were nearby isolated settlements. He, like everybody else in the room, recognized one of the small townships as Risembool. "If these are their exact locations, are you saying they haven't moved?"

Fuery nodded. "That's exactly what I'm saying." Havoc whistled a bit in disbelief. "In all observed radio transmissions, those three gunships haven't moved. The others…" He paused to indicate two he knew on the map by tracing an oblong circle and a figure eight with his finger. "…seem to be moving in a predictable pattern."

Mustang looked at slight creases representing the two moving patterns. His brows furrowed as his expression contorted into a deepening frown. "These two patterns come close to Central without entering the visual range of our patrols." He looked up to give a knowing look to his inner circle. "These are scouts sent to keep track of the royal prince. If he doesn't communicate with them regularly, they can rapidly send orders to the other ships."

Falman rubbed his chin. "They know enough about us to target our weakest points. If they deem us a threat, they can quickly and easily gain a foothold. Worse, they can gain several at once and defend the most advantageous. They could easily be planning to fortify one of those positions in case they decide it's better to go to war with us."

Mustang rubbed his brow. "What timing…" He studied the map as he tried to come up with a plan. He needed to properly divide his resources. He needed to catch Jeremiah's murderer and his partners before another member of the Amestris Consulate or anybody else was killed. He had to keep Isovar and Lucifer in line while making them believe diplomacy was the proper course.

A smirk found its way onto Mustang's face. "Well, they certainly want to play difficult." He stood, arms crossed confidently. "We just have to push back just as hard." He pointed to Falman and Fuery. "You keep gathering information." He indicated Havoc and Breda. "You take command of the ground forces and make sure everybody is kept up to date."

His four trusted men of the inner circle nodded in understanding. "I'll keep my ears to the ground with Sheska and find the remnants of Dante's regime." He looked at each of his men in turn. "I don't know who we can trust, but we can't afford to lose the only stability our country currently has. I want each of you to personally select body guards for the members of the Consulate, preferably State Alchemists we can rely on."

The men stood at attention and saluted. Mustang only nodded. They quickly gathered their notes and supplies. They knew their missions, and they knew very well what was at stake. The Council of Seven managed to stabilize Amestris in short order, and they managed to keep the office of Fuhrer open for an appropriate candidate.

His expression turned dark as the door to his temporary headquarters closed. He needed time to think about the worst, possible outcomes. Once forced back to Central, he found his mind unable to wander down the darker corridors with people around him that he trusted. With Jeremiah Twain's death, he knew he had to get inside the minds of the villains who deliberately went after the young man's life.

Mustang recalled his fateful encounter with King Bradley. He considered it both a boon and a bane. He had stepped into the darkest of minds, and he had learned what paths to avoid when walking the fine line between power and corruption. He could afford no misstep, but he understood the pratfalls Kelly Westford had made.

The Flame Alchemist sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. After a moment to dull the throbbing in his skull, he looked to the clock in the room. "The machinations of mice and men… If that man is going to make a move, he's likely to do it tonight." He leaned back and thought for a moment. He had no doubt the Glass Alchemist was behind recent internal troubles, but he lacked evidence. Isovar's arrival threw up a veil of turmoil, which was not helping matters.

Mustang sighed. Lieutenant General Daniels' office was investigating the terrorist attack on Jeremiah Twain's house and his subsequent death at the hospital. For the time being, even Sheska could not get close to the investigation. They only knew that Lloyd Furr also received injury, and military police kept him under strict watch. The whole situation stunk of political intrigue or cloaks and daggers.

He looked out the window as some thunderclaps rattled the glass panes. Highly energized plasma lit the night sky as he played back the day's memories. Immediately after he dismissed Fuery to spy on Corsair radio traffic, he met with Spartan Isovar. He wanted to level the playing field, as it were. Isovar held a distinct advantage, and he let the commander of the _Hoarfrost Brigade_ know they were not adequately prepared for negotiations.

* * *

"Your lovely adjutant isn't with you today?" Mustang's icy gaze remained on Isovar as he tried to small talk. The foreign dignitary only smiled and chuckled at the lack of response. "No, I suppose she won't." He tapped his chin. "I suspect you have your most trusted pawns carrying out various tasks." The Flame Alchemist's brow twitched in annoyance, and the Regent of Corsair clicked his tongue in admonition. "They _are_ only warm bodies serving under you, no matter how talented."

"Are you quite done with the chatter, or are you ready to answer a few questions?" Mustang had a certain level of patience. Isovar had long overstepped the threshold, but he seemed ready to continue needling at him. "I thought you were here to negotiate or open initial trade."

Isovar nodded with a wide grin. "Of course, and I'm perfectly willing to share whatever information you might desire." He leaned closer to the table they shared. "For example, I can tell you a little about our culture." Mustang tilted his head, an invitation. "I'm sure you have somebody interrogating my men as we sit here talking." Isovar waved Mustang's coming defense off. "There's no need to worry. I expected it." He paused. "Nay, I _encourage_ it."

He leaned back in thought. "I don't doubt your interrogators' skill, but it's hard to get anything out of people who don't even know your language." He shrugged. "I'm sure a few of my men picked up odds and ends, but you won't get more than name, rank, and file." He snapped his fingers in sudden inspiration. "Oh yes, I do hope you at least make a show of it. A bloody towel does _wonders_, after all."

Mustang was a bit surprised. He knew Isovar expected that he would question the Corsair army. He had not expected their commander to suggest mentally stressing his men. He sighed. "I never hid it. I have my best interrogators and linguists questioning your men." He tented his hands and leaned forward. "There are things we can learn even through language barriers." He had to admit that it might take some time to interpret the results. He was not expecting much when he met his men in the evening.

Mustang continued. "Speaking of which, I doubt you'd be able to adequately share your language, so we'll forget that for the time being. In the future though, I want some of your linguists to sit down with some of our linguists. Understand, these are initial negotiations only. If we accept your current conditions for trade, we'll want to draw up a formal treaty. It'll be necessary that both sides have a mutual understanding of the other's language and culture."

The visiting Regent of Corsair easily smiled. "You are no stranger to diplomacy, at least." He paused to think. "I can prepare an appropriate embassy. In fact, the Grand Sovereign has agreed to visit in person to sign any formal treaties." He snapped his fingers. "Of course, you'd be interested to know who might make up such a delegation." He snickered. "It might also teach you something about our culture and hierarchy."

The Flame Alchemist only nodded, and Isovar leaned back and thought for a moment. "I can't really promise anything concrete. The Sovereigns will be in charge of picking the security details, and my dear eldest brother does enjoy picking personnel himself." He tapped his chin. "I will recommend my daughter, lovely Jezebella, though."

Mustang wore an incredulous expression. He knew somebody important to Regent Isovar likely inspired the name for the _CSG Jezebella_, but he never suspected it was christened after his very daughter. If he named his flagship after his own daughter, some enemies might see it as a weakness. The Flame Alchemist knew better. Still, he was curious. "I'm surprised you christened your flagship after your daughter."

Isovar raised a brow with a near giddy smirk. "It's something I'm proud of, actually." Mustang's expression told him to continue. Isovar released a heavy breath and licked his lips. "It was a great honor watch lovely Jezebella's name painted onto a Sovereign-class gunship's hull." He chuckled. "You see; you must be at most tenth in line to succeed the throne."

Mustang nodded. The Sovereign-class was likely the most advanced gunship in their air force. He narrowed his eyes. _"Why, then, are they willing to trade plans to build one just for a chance at Fullmetal?"_ He shook his head and logged the question for later. "I take it there's a _CSG Spartan_ flying around somewhere?"

Isovar laughed. After a moment, he wiped a mirthful tear from his eye. "Oh no, I'm seventeenth in line for the throne." Mustang wore a confused expression as he tried to read his counterpart. "It's rather simple. My lovely Jezebella is more suited for the throne." He chuckled. "I myself used to be twenty-first in line. We simply make sure those most suited for the throne are those who are seated."

Mustang held up his hands. "I'm sorry; we seem to have gotten off on a tangent. Instead…"

"I don't think so, General." Isovar interrupted quickly. "You wanted to know more about our culture, and I think this is a fair exchange." He leaned forward confidently. "We studied your language and culture for years using Lucifer. I think it only fair to explain just how important the line of succession is."

Mustang shook his head. His counterpart certainly had his own ways of doing things. _"Oh well, it doesn't hurt to know more about them. If worse comes to worst, we'll at least know where we stand."_ He sighed and returned to his previous posture. "Okay, so who decides who's more suited for the throne? You?"

Isovar laughed almost mockingly. "Hardly." He paused a moment. "I can make an initial challenge, but we have a certain system. A group we solemnly refer to as Sages makes the final decision." He shrugged. "Besides, it's well known what my intentions are." With some ecstasy in his voice, he continued. "I want power, and my lovely Jezebella is both the most worthy and a means to that end."

Mustang's glower turned dangerous. "That's where we come in; isn't it?" He did not rise through the ranks because he followed the rank and file. He was aggressive and shrewd. He knew how to make alliances, and he was an excellent judge of character. "You're willing to trade even the secrets of the Sovereign-class gunship for your ambitions."

Isovar nodded, amusement dancing in his eyes. "It's a fair trade, however." He paused in thought. "I admit; I didn't understand Lucifer's insistence on Major Elric at first." He leaned forward, as if sharing a secret. "He explained it in detail. As skilled as your State Alchemists are, Fullmetal is truly a prodigy." He shrugged. "Though, I don't really understand all that nonsense about the Gate or Shadows."

Mustang knew full well how much of a prodigy Edward really was. The fact alone was half the reason he scouted him. However, _teaching _alchemy was in another league from _learning_ alchemy. The Fullmetal Alchemist was far from the best candidate to pass knowledge to the next generation, at least at for the time being. The Flame Alchemist was certain there was another objective. He was far from certain who hid said objective. The Homunculus could be hiding details from Isovar, for all he knew.

Isovar tried to study his counterpart. He was worried about lacing the trap too thick with honey. However, Mustang was a military man. The hierarchical command structure of Corsair was of keen interest to him; the Regent was sure. He also had to admit the negotiations had not even begun. They were playing a game of tit for tat to try leveling the playing field a bit more.

Mustang leaned back. He did not trust Isovar, but negotiating was a difficult process more reliant on understanding than trust. He knew he had to set aside personal feelings in order to speak for Amestris. As it stood, the new information on the hierarchal structure spoke volumes of the culture of Corsair. They were definitely a hereditary monarchy. As evidenced by Jezebella, they were willing to reposition the line of succession.

The Flame Alchemist sighed and leaned forward once more. "If we're done with your succession and lineage…?" He left the question hanging. Isovar inclined his head slightly to indicate he was ready to continue. "I think it's only fair to discuss what the Titan-class and Ocean-class gunships are. If you're willing to trade schematics for three, unique classes of gunships…?"

Isovar nodded. "Of course I believe it's only fair trade for the knowledge and expertise of your finest Alchemists." He paused to consider his explanations. "When we landed, you saw one large gunship flanked by two smaller ones." He half-asked, and Mustang nodded in affirmative. "The large gunship is a Sovereign-class command and troop carrier. Its armaments are light and armor thick."

"On the other hand, the smaller Titan-class gunships are used as escort. They are, for lack of a better description in your language, flying fortresses. They are well armed and built to take a beating. They house a small crew compliment and are generally as uncomfortable to fly in as a tank." He shrugged. "They are invaluable escorts."

He scratched his chin. "You haven't seen the Ocean-class gunship, yet." He sighed as he thought about the best way to describe it. "It's really just a mobile recon station. It needs a rather large crew compliment, but it lacks both armament and armor. However, it is a rather unique gunship. Despite its size, it requires little space to land. It's meant to deploy in preparation for larger scale operations. They can be set up to extract resources, relay communications, or any other numerous activities."

Mustang narrowed his eyes. With just three classes of gunships, the Corsair army was more than prepared to invade any given land. He seriously doubted Isovar's earlier assertions. He doubted Amestris status as landlocked even meant anything to carefully deployed Ocean-class gunships. If they could be set up to extricate fuel, they could fly Sovereign-class and Titan-class gunships in later with a waiting supply depot.

The Flame Alchemist stood and walked to another table in the room. He poured a glass of water and offered it to his counterpart. Isovar accepted with a nod of thanks. As he poured himself a glass, he wondered at what his inner circle might learn. He also wondered what Winry might discover as she inspected the landed gunships.

* * *

"All right Lieutenant, if you could sign here please." The military police stationed around Corsair's gunships continued their patrols as their commanding officer accepted orders from Riza Hawkeye. He eyed the one civilian with them, but he was not about to question Major Alex Luis Armstrong. As a State Alchemist, the Strong Arm Alchemist far outranked him.

When she placed the pen in his hand, the guard withdrew the paperwork to inspect the signature. He was expecting somebody from Lieutenant General Roy Mustang's office, so he only had to shuffle through a single folder to find verifying documentation. Once he felt confident in Lieutenant Hawkeye's identity, he handed back her orders and saluted. "Everything's in order, sir."

She returned his salute before turning around and signaling for her companions to follow her. While Private Sheska openly gaped at the gunships, Winry cooed, squealed, and practically purred. She was already sorting though her hand tools. She could not wait to crack open a few control panels and find out what made the gunships tick. She also hoped to see the engines.

"Doesn't it seem strange?" Sheska spoke up suddenly. Riza and Armstrong glanced at one another briefly and nodded. The Private noticed the exchange. "Wait, that's why the General assigned you two to escort us. Either one of you is normally enough, but both of you…" She paused for a moment. "Do you really suspect they left some sort of trap, or soldiers, for us?"

Winry almost stopped in her tracks before Armstrong spoke up. "They gave up their weapons too easily. We might find nothing." He glanced over his shoulder to Sheska. "It's more likely we find engineers. We don't believe we discovered any such essential personnel among the soldiers taken into temporary custody."

Closer to the lead craft, Riza spotted something. It was small, almost indiscernible. However, her eyes were sharp, and, even hidden, shadows highlighted a red, blinking light. She instinctively reached for her sidearm and clicked the safety off as she scanned the area. After a moment, she motioned for Winry to look to the small box she noticed. "What's that?"

Armstrong reached into his pocket to withdraw his alchemic gauntlets, and Riza fully readied her sidearm. As they approached, Winry tried to study the blinking light. It blinked steadily, unchanging. It was attached to a small, semi-spherical protrusion from the hull. "It's not a bomb…" Sheska's voice trembled. "Is it?"

Winry shook her head. "I don't think so." She pointed out its position. "It's close to the door." She indicated a gap. "This wire is wrapped to collect RF." She paused. "I can't really tell anything from out here, but I think it's short-range."

Armstrong looked to Riza. "What would they use short-range radio waves for?" She shook her head, unsure. When she snapped her attention to the darkened corridor of the gunship, he curiously looked inside. "Did you notice something, Lieutenant?"

Riza trained her gun on the open portal. She approached slowly, cautiously. She watched for any irregular shadows, any signs of movement. As she secured firm footing on the first few steps, she noted how the gunship shifted with her weight. It was not enough for most to notice, but it might throw off her aim. Once inside, she motioned for the rest to follow her.

Armstrong was able to fit through the portal, but he was surprised at how spacious the inside of the gunship was. Riza took point; she was sure she was on the mysterious shadow's trail. Armstrong took up the rear to make sure the shadow could not double back and harm or take hostage Sheska and Winry.

They moved slowly. Winry observed the limited mechanics within the corridor and rooms they passed and cleared. She mostly noticed wiring and internal communications. She thought she might discover more when they were able to perform investigations that are more thorough. At the end of the end of the corridor, they reached a distinct fork.

One path led to a spacious cargo bay. Crates, a few tanks, an armored transport, and a few unknown craft filled the cargo bay. There were plenty of places to hide, but Riza's trained eyes focused in on the other room. She carefully sidestepped into the room with her sidearm ready. "Come out where I can see you!" She commanded over the hum of the engine.

In the poorly lit room and beneath the grease and grime, they could only tell that his eyes were slanted. He spoke desperately in a foreign language as he held his hands disarmingly. He bowed apologetically and appeared obviously frightened. When Sheska pulled out a flashlight and focused its beam on him, they noticed his other features.

His skin was dark; though, they could not tell if it was from heredity or engine heat. His hair was black, and, though disheveled, he tied it back in a short, thin ponytail. His jumpsuit was the color of desert sand and soaked with sweat and oil. He also wore a thick collar around his neck with a red, steadily blinking light.

Riza narrowed her eyes. "It would appear Regent Isovar lied to us." Armstrong nodded and grunted in agreement. "If there's still someone in the…" She paused to take in what she could see without removing focus from the unknown man. "…engine room, there might be somebody else on board. Private!" She paused to give Sheska a moment. "Restrain him. I'll look around the gunship for any more of Isovar's men."

"No more." All attention focused on the disheveled man. "Lord Regent take all soldiers. Leave self repair." The citizens of Amestris looked at each other as if trying to figure out what was going on. "You of Amestris, yes?"

Armstrong ducked to fit through the doorframe. Riza lowered her sidearm as he moved closer. The disheveled man cowered under his presence, and he spoke with authority. "We are soldiers of Amestris." The man nodded and smiled. "I am Major Alex Luis Armstrong, the Strong Arm Alchemist. Just who are we talking to?"

The unknown engineer studied Armstrong for several long moments. He repeated the movements of his words silently as if deciphering them. After a moment, the man smiled and licked his lips. "Self Qin Fai. Self necessary…" He paused and struggled to find the right words. "…maintain _Jezebella_." His accent was rough, and he obviously had a very rudimentary understanding of their language.

Riza moved to stand beside Armstrong. She needed some confirmation. "You said Regent Isovar took all the soldiers off this gunship?" The man's attention snapped to her. He studied her for a few moments and repeated her words on his lips. After a moment, he nodded. "Why didn't he take you?"

Qin Fai looked down and licked his lips several times as his eyes moved back and forth. After a moment, he looked and spoke in his rough voice. "Self cannot leave. Self necessary maintain _Jezebella_. Lord Regent not allow leave."

Riza heaved a sigh. "That's not an answer." She paused when he only looked at her in confusion. "Why. Didn't. He. Take. You." She emphasized her question and gave him a look promising retribution. When he mumbled the same response, she shook her head in frustration. "Okay, we're getting him off this gunship. He obviously understands our language, so Fuery and Falman might get somewhere with him. Sheska, prepare…"

"No, no, no, no, no!" Qin Fai repeated desperately. He clenched his eyes and clung to a nearby pipe covered in condensation. "Self cannot leave! Lord Regent not allow leave! No, no, no, no, no!" He mumbled quietly in a foreign language. He did not appear ready or able to fight back.

Winry stepped between Qin Fai and Mustang's subordinates. "Can't you see that he's scared?" He opened his eyes to watch her. He squinted his eyes as he tried to understand her words, unable to see her mouth. "I think he's here against his will, and I don't think leaving is an option for him." She turned to face him; a thought crossed her mind. "Where are you from?"

Mustang's subordinates were surprised by the question, but they were more surprised by the answer. Qin Fai eagerly accounted where he was from and how he came to the service of Isovar. "Self of Xing." He observed their startled reactions. "Lord Regent take self missionary Minoa." He paused and stammered for a moment. "Lord Regent take make necessary maintain _Jezebella_." He pointed to the collar around his neck.

Winry approached over the protests of Mustangs subordinates. "Shush, I doubt it's a bomb." She paused. "Well, at least it's probably only powerful enough to take Qin Fai out…" Still, she did not dare touch it. She studied it for a few moments. "Is this how they force you to stay here?" She gave him a moment to answer.

When he nodded, she continued. "I doubt I could safely remove this collar, so I _don't_ suggest you try forcing him to leave the gunship." He trembled for a moment before he recognized the negative. "There's a cathode and anode protruding from the collar in into his neck. In laymen's terms, this is a shock collar."

She pointed to one of the small boxes. "I think this is a radio transceiver. It probably tells the gunship his relative proximity…" She paused. "It also explains what we saw as we entered." She moved to another box. "I think _this_ might be an explosive." She shook her head. "He really can't leave."

"No leave. Cannot leave."

Riza nodded. "Okay, so he's not a threat." She looked to Winry. "He still knows our language. We also have linguists who can talk in his native tongue." She holstered her sidearm to calm Qin Fai a bit. "We have to find out everything we can to give the General every advantage we can."

"No, no." Qin Fai adamantly refused. "Say too much." Riza and Armstrong exchanged glances. Before they could say anything, he continued. "Say too much. Lord Regent not happy. Protect wife. Wife important. Say too much. Say too much."

Winry nearly stomped her foot in indignation. Before she shouted angrily, she swallowed her words and counted to ten. Mustang's subordinates watched her temper swell and fade, and they waited for her to speak. "They're holding your wife hostage? You can't help us…? You can't do anything because your wife is in danger?"

Qin Fai nodded. "Wife missionary medic. Serve Minoa." He rubbed his hands nervously. "Say too much. Lord Regent know. Lord Regent punish." He swallowed hard. "Protect wife. Say too much."

Riza turned to Winry. "Can anybody hear us in here?" When the blond automail mechanic blinked with notable confusion, the sharpshooter clarified. "Can his collar transmit sound, or are there any other radios in this room?" She held up her finger to think for a moment. "Could they record what he says?"

Winry paused for a moment to look around the room. "His collar is too small to do more than send a steady pulse over a _very_ short distance. I suspect it's designed to work within fifteen..." She paused. "…twenty, maybe, meters." She did not sound confident in her rough calculation. "I don't see anything I recognize as a radio…"

Riza returned her attention to Qin Fai. "Regent Isovar won't learn of anything you say in here. We won't tell him." She paused and noticed how agitated he looked. She sighed. "If you tell us where your wife is, we might be able to help."

After repeating her words on silent lips, he knelt down to think. He scratched his chin and rubbed his lips. He waved his fingers wildly in front of his face. After several, long moments, he spoke. He remained hunched over, so his rough voice did not carry well. They all had to lean down to listen. "Wife important. Lord Regent interest medic alchemy." He looked up for a moment. "Amestris call alchemy. Xing other. Corsair magic. Minoa gift, mana."

Riza and Armstrong again shared glances. Qin Fai continued. "Wife Biyu. Lord Eugene watch." His expression saddened. "Protect better. Lord Eugene good commander. Self worker. Wife worker." He tilted his head to one side. "Lord Regent not like Lord Eugene. Give bad assignment. Lord Eugene command _Anchor_. Told babysit new soldiers."

Armstrong pulled Riza aside. "It sounds like Regent Isovar is hiding some important details." He paused to look to Qin Fai. "If I understand him correctly, they were in a country called Minoa when they were captured by Corsair and forced to work. They hold one hostage to the other, so they never struggle or fight back."

Riza nodded. "They also have knowledge of Xing alchemy, but they are specifically targeting the alchemy of Amestris." She closed her eyes for a moment. "There is some dissention in the ranks, however. Regent Isovar even forced this Eugene to command a gunship crewed by a bunch of pups as punishment. I wonder what he did to deserve it."

"Why don't we ask him?" The Amestris officers were surprised when Winry interrupted. Sheska only watched as her blond friend walked over to Qin Fai and did exactly as she suggested. "What did Eugene do to make Isovar angry?"

The disheveled mechanic tapped his forehead for a moment as he gathered his thoughts and did his best to translate them. "Self remember…" He paused and mumbled for a moment. He mouthed words as if to test them. "Lord Regent not like Lovecraft clan. Lovecraft speak for workers. Isovar clan split belief."

Riza looked directly in Qin Fai's eyes. "The royal family is divided on how to deal with workers?" He shook his head and shrugged. "Regent Isovar said as much though, right?" He nodded after a moment to understand her words. She turned to Armstrong. "Do you think these 'workers' are a slave labor force?"

Armstrong shook his head. "I do not know. Qin Fai and his wife fill vital rolls." He rubbed his brow. "It's important not to jump to conclusions." He sighed. "However, I would like to know what Corsair was doing in this Minoa country." He was unfamiliar with any such territory, but Amestris was unstable enough along its own borders.

Qin Fai looked at Armstrong curiously. "Minoa new territory." He stated matter-of-factly. "Isovar make part Corsair." He looked at them as if it should have been common knowledge.

* * *

Calvin and Cybil looked up when she heard rapping at the door. They walked over cautiously and peeked around the corner into the connecting hallway. Rose stood at the threshold talking to Bunny. Obviously, the latter knocked. After a brief conversation, Rose thanked Bunny and made her way to the elevator. The twins watched her enter and wave kindly.

Inside the elevator, she selected the lobby as her destination. She fiddled with her blouse to make sure she looked pristine when she exited. When the elevator chimed and doors opened to the lobby, she walked up to the front desk. She told them her name and room number, and they handed her the phone. "Is something wrong?"

She paused to listen to the caretaker she left watching her child back in Lior. "Yes." She answered kindly. "Of course." She giggled. "Oh, Ed's doing just fine. His automail mechanic was able to fix him right up." She frowned. "No, I don't know what happened. The military is still investigating." She smiled and nodded. "I'd be more than glad to talk to him, but it has to be brief. Other people have to use the phone."

The hotel manager smiled and waved her off. He was silently telling her to talk as long as needed. "What did you want to talk to mommy about?" She remained silent for several moments as her son regaled her with stories of his accomplishments. She smiled throughout, but her expression dimmed at the end. "Mommy will be home soon. I had to make sure my friend was safe." She smiled and nodded. "Yes, mommy will be home soon. Now please, hand the phone back over Mrs. Parnly."

It took a moment; her son protested. After some soothing words, she coaxed her son to hand the phone back to the caregiver. She quickly explained the situation. Edward recovered, and she wanted time to say her goodbyes. "I'm sure I'll see them tonight, so I'll leave late tomorrow morning. I should be back by evening." She paused. "Yes. Yes, see you then."

Rose handed the back to the hotel manager and turned around to head back to the elevator. She paused in the middle of the lobby to look up at the ceiling. She really was not paying attention to the chandelier or decorations. She just wanted a moment to think before heading back up to the room. She wanted to spend more time with everybody, especially Edward. She knew she needed to get back to her child. It was not a hard decision at all, but she wanted the time to reflect on the past few days.

* * *

The back alleys of Central were no place for sightseeing. They were forgotten passages and hideaways for the poor, homeless, refuse of society, and illicit dealings. While generous charities lined nearby streets, none dared tread into the dangers and dark alleys. It was a curious sight to see a well shaven man sitting on top of a dilapidated, concrete fence pillar in front of a decrepit school building.

It was a stranger sight to see two well-dressed people walking towards him. The old man sitting on the fence pillar looked up when he heard loose gravel shuffle under polished shoes. The left side of his body creaked slightly as he stood. _"Heh, maybe I should have oiled first."_ He mock saluted his approaching companions. "Yo, it's about time."

"Why do you always pick places like this?" Gwendolyn Ashcraft protested as she came to a stop. "Now if you've had your fun, get down here, Ken!" With a shrug, Kenneth Troy obliged. He jumped and landed with a loud thud. She shook her head. "I hope you haven't been mistreating your automail like that."

He chuckled. "Are you kidding? I haven't felt so young in years!" He flexed his left arm to show off the craftsmanship. "That Winry Rockbell really has a knack for this." He paused when he saw his wedding band. Caught up in a memory, he shook his head and lowered his arm before continuing. "I hope you got some maintenance done."

Gwendolyn tapped both of her knees. "I went to see grandmother." She smiled sadly. "She's still mad, but at least I got to see her." She wished she had more time to spend with Pinako. She also wanted to see her cousin, but she knew how impossible the latter was. After a moment of reverie, she noticed Ken glaring at her companion.

"Hey, don't' look at me like that." Harvard Rivers defended himself. "I stayed with her the entire time, just like you asked." He tilted his head to one side. "I _am_ a man of my word, after all." Gwendolyn slapped his shoulder. He mocked injury before rolling up his left sleeve. "Yeah, I got my automail checked up too. We're in top form."

"Good." Kenneth stopped all pretenses. He was serious. "I've already talked to Lloyd and Blunt." He shook his head. "We've got a sober reality getting ready to come up and slap us awake." Sure he had their attention, he recounted the events of the last few days. Jeremiah Twain's death was a serious blow for Amestris. It also meant they were too late to act. The strangers from Corsair only complicated things.

He related his conversation with Lucifer and meeting with the brothers Elric. Gwendolyn and Harvard almost felt depressed at the near relentless stream of bad news. Finished with past events, Kenneth moved on to what was to come. "We can ignore the foreigners for now. Our primary concern is the presence of other Shadows. They are going after Consulate members, and I'm not sure the State Alchemist Corps is up to the task of defending all of them."

Harvard rubbed his chin. "If Lucifer is as big a threat as you suspect, shouldn't we go after him?" He shook his head confusedly. "He's only a Homunculus. He serves the Gate as little more than a golem."

"As I told Lloyd and Blunt, you are to stay away from Lucifer!" Kenneth practically yelled. "He may have an innate fear of Shadows, but he is altogether different from anything you expect." He shook his head. "For now, concentrate on getting to Consulate members before the other Shadows." He sighed. "There are only four of us, so we must conserve our strength. If it appears the assigned State Alchemists can handle the Shadow, let them!"

"Are you sure there are only the four of us?" Gwendolyn asked. Harvard gave her a confused look, but Kenneth nodded slowly. She turned to face the west. "Well, another Shadow is moving rapidly this way. I can't identify who it is, so I think the host is new." She paused for a moment. "I don't sense remnants of the host's soul. It's a Shadow Incarnate."

Kenneth nodded. "Well, we can't assume anything. We all know we only became Shadow Hosts because we were useful to our tenants." He shrugged. "I know what's happening to me once Cross is done." He looked at each of them in turn. "What about your deals with Seer and Faux?"

Gwendolyn bowed her head. "I wanted to see mother before the Gate took my soul back into the cycle of rebirth…" She laughed and scratched the back of her head. "I doubt that's possible, though…"

Harvard laughed nervously. "Really, I've had enough time to repent. I just told Faux to do whatever he wanted." He looked to his traveling companion. "I hope Seer can do something for you."

Kenneth sighed and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the sclera appeared as black flames. "Seer, you are my Right Hand." Gwendolyn closed her eyes, and her sclera also appeared as black flames. "Faux, you are the Right Hand of the East." Harvard did the same. "You two stick together. Seer can find the next Shadow to act, and Faux can fight." He paused to emphasize his coming order. "Do not separate! Protect each other!"

* * *

Julian Rivers owned a historic mansion near Central Museum. It was usually quiet. He hired a few guards to keep priceless artifacts from being stolen or destroyed, but he never took advantage of his station in order to place military police on duty. The detail surrounding his mansion was not unexpected, however.

Julian looked out his window. Thankfully, the military police were mindful of his priceless treasures. He sighed. Of course, he knew things would rapidly deteriorate in case a battle actually broke out. "I'm getting too old for this." A passing servant stopped and looked at him. He sighed and leaned his head back. "I'm a scholar. I study the past and prepare the next generation for the future. I fear not for my life, but for the history that might be lost."

He turned around to the click somebody loading a gun. "Must you _really_ do that here, miss?" He addressed a woman wearing the Amestris military blue dress. She cut her strawberry-blond hair short and parted it heavily to the right, nearly covering the same eye. Her icy blue eyes focused on her gun and ammunition. A silver chain led into one of her pockets. He shook his head when she did not reply. "I understand why you're here, but don't you think a safe house would be better?"

She ran her fingers along the barrel of her favorite gun. "General Mustang wants me to do a job, and I'm doing it right." Her voice was hoarse. She shifted her eyes to his for a moment. "These guys are coming here first regardless, and, by all accounts, they don't really have any concern for artifacts. They tore Twain's house up, and believe me when I say Furr tried to stop it."

Julian looked to where her name insignia should have been. For whatever reason, she removed it. Mustang's office never told him whom they were sending. In fact, the Flame Alchemist only sent him her picture and said he would understand later. Looking at her, he had no clue what the Lieutenant General meant. However, she did not remove her rank. "What do I call you, Lieutenant Colonel?"

She gave him her ever-icy glare. "Thought I told you not to discuss it." She returned her attention to her gun. She carefully inspected it as she moved her fingers over every square millimeter. If she saw a smudge or bit of grime, she immediately polished it off. She sometimes used a tool to clean out grooves and smooth the finish.

Julian had no idea what she was doing. She never let anybody close to her gun, and it never left her sight or side. He shook his head. He met some of the most interesting people whenever he dealt with the State Alchemist Corps. However, he had never met one who used a traditional weapon. They usually specialized it to match their namesake. The Silver Alchemist used a silver sword and silver bending alchemy circles on his gloves.

With another sigh, he returned his attention to the outside world. His garden was lovely and well maintained. The walls were tall and built with hand placed brick and mortar. There was a destroyed section of the wall where military police were lying and bleeding to death. The persimmon tree was blooming…

Julian's attention focused on the destruction as the State Alchemist assigned to protect him placed a hand on his shoulder. "Well, it looks like I'm up." She sighed. "Too bad those MP's never stood a chance." She made a show of clicking the safety off before opening the window and jumping down. She laughed as she touched down and looked up to see her stupefied client. "What? You can't say you've never seen some crazy alchemist jump from a two story building!"

Scythe stopped several meters from her. He wore a scowl that spoke volumes. "This is so not sweet." Ignoring the State Alchemist before him, he looked up to see his mark. "Yadda, yadda, yadda, no hard feelings gramps. I'm here to kill you, Amestris Consulate Member Julian Rivers." He leveled his namesake and prepared to strike.

"Oh, and what makes you think I'll let'cha?" The female State Alchemist grinned madly. Scythe gave her a look as if to ask who she was and why he should care. She practically reared back in laughter. "You gave my idiot older brother quite the fight on Twain's roof just last night. Still can't believe you look so healthy." Her statement earned her incredulous looks from both target and client.

"_You're_ Hilda?" She looked up to Julian with a pout, like she did not want her identify revealed so easily. "You're Lloyd's baby sister? The one he worries about all the time?"

Scythe trembled. He smiled widely and madly. Circumstances prevented him from fighting the real thing, but a proxy was giving him a second chance. He could hardly contain his joy. "You can't deny me!" He shouted at the top of his lungs. He returned his attention to Lloyd's younger sister. "You're related to that miserable Lloyd?"

Hilda really did rear back in laughter. "Yep, that's right. I'm the idiot's cute, little sister." She pressed a thumb into her breast. "I'm Lieutenant Colonel Hilda Furr, State Alchemist of the proud Amestris military!" She set her gun sights on Scythe. "I'm also called the Hot Ice Alchemist!"

Several blocks over at Central University, Lieutenant General Jack Daniels confidently strolled towards the main entrance flanked by his own troops. They dressed Gwyneth Riggs in a military uniform and mixed her in with the escort. The General motioned his younger brother closer. The Warrant Officer quickly obeyed. "Officer, you know your orders. If things get dicey, get Mrs. Riggs out of here."

Benjamin nodded before focusing on what his elder brother saw. A solitary figure stood waiting for them. He carried a pike. They recognized Arbitrator Lance from Lloyd's descriptions. The Warrant Officer released a heavy breath. "I was half expecting to see them to show up in a group…" He still did not know what to expect from these self-proclaimed judges. "Should I move the troops, sir?"

The Lieutenant General pulled the scabbard at his side and wrapped his hand around the grip. "That would be wise, Officer." He moved towards the Shadow alone. His younger brother stayed behind to order the troops. They scattered in multiple directions. They hoped that Gwendolyn would escape safely even if the one of the Shadows noticed her.

"For the future of this world…" The Arbitrator started. "…Amestris Consulate Member Jack Daniels, the military representative…" Arbitrator Lance pointed his weapon towards the Lieutenant General. "…Amestris Consulate Member Gwyneth Riggs, the central representative…" He indicated one of the retreating groups. "…you must die!" He lunged towards the approaching Desert Alchemist.

Near the western edge of Central, Alan Kingston and William Pond tried to conduct business while surrounded by military police complimented by two State Alchemists. The unorthodox circumstances made conducting business much more difficult. They tried several, unsuccessful times to get the military police at least to back off. They knew the State Alchemists had to stay close.

They still worked as best they could. The conditions were less friendly than normal, but they were businessmen at heart. They could deal with a few hardships. However, they knew their own limitations. When they noticed the State Alchemists looking off into the distance with obvious concern, they turned their attention in the same direction.

They did not recognize either figure from Lloyd's descriptions. One of the figures held a labrys. He had a figure similar to a body builder. He kept his upper body well toned, so he could easily heft his weapon with deadly efficiency. The other carried a flail, and a blade replaced the pommel. His portly body was ideal for such a weapon.

"For the future of this world…" The Arbitrators started together.

"…Amestris Consulate Member William Pond, the northern representative…" Arbitrator Axe stated.

"…Amestris Consulate Member Alan Kingston, the business representative…" Arbitrator Bludgeon stated.

"…you must die!" They concluded together.

Meanwhile, Steel Claw sat on the windowsill of Lloyd Furr's hospital room. He watched her, but she never made a move. She seemed content to wait for him to heal, but he wanted to know why she was there to begin with. She promised not to return for a couple of days. She said she wanted him to recover for their fight. He decided to strike up a conversation, so he pulled out his notepad.

Curious, she wandered into the room. She knew he had to use alchemy to pull Blunt out, so duplicity was unwise. She read his question and shrugged. "Orders changed." She read his next question. "We're supposed to strike at the same time now." She grabbed his pen before he could write again. "I still want you to recover, but I might not have that luxury much longer. In other words, I might have to drag you out of this room and finish our business a lot sooner than I promised."

Lloyd nodded. He figured something might happen to step up the self-proclaimed judges' timeline. With the invading army, new variables forced them to recalculate. He also had to admit that Mustang's promotion might have changed their timetable. He could only wait and watch. If Steel Claw demanded that he fight, he planned only to request a location away from innocent bystanders.

* * *

A girl with short, raven hair hummed as she watched the scenery rush by. She moved her eyes from the far off landscape to the nearby blur of colors. Her emerald eyes shone as she took in the natural brilliance. She heard the door roll open behind her, and she turned just enough to look over her shoulder at the train attendant.

"Excuse me, ma'am." He spoke politely and tipped his hat. "Is there anything I can get for you? It can get colder towards Central, so we have blankets and hot soup prepared." He waited a moment for her to answer. He stood a little straighter as she turned around and tilted her head to one side.

She smiled widely and giggled slightly. "No thank you!" She stated cheerily as she raised her hand in the air. He looked at her curiously for a moment before inclining his head and leaving. He closed the door behind her, and she returned her attention to the scenery rolling by the window. After a moment, she noticed her reflection in the window and focused on it. Her sclera looked like black flames.

* * *

Final Word:

Hopefully, there won't be any further obnoxious gaps between chapters. I want chapters released on a fairly regular basis, but that's been rather difficult as of late. Also with the satisfying end to the manga and sheer epicness of _Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood_, I have lost _some_ of my inspiration for this fiction. Rest assured, I will not stop halfway through.

The next chapter will start Lucifer's backstory. I'm not sure if it will fit in one chapter or not. However, starting that side-story (possible mini-arc) means I'm leaving a rather massive cliffhanger for the Consulate. I figured it was only fair to give warning. Do enjoy!

As always, reviews are appreciated, and flames outright ignored.

Story Word Count: 10,028  
Story Page Count: 18


	10. Chapter 9: Ouroboros

**Ouroboros**

The brothers Elric knew exactly what kind of dangers Lucifer posed. Though neither brother had to draw an alchemic formula, they knew they were in a terrible position to respond. Still, the Homunculus acted amiable enough. Only a tent enclosed him, and it was whole and untarnished. The soldiers outside offered no challenge to the nearly immortal being.

They decided it was in their best interest to gather information sooner rather than later. Lucifer was more than happy to oblige. He even _provided_ a question or two neither brother thought to ask. They sat and waited patiently as the Homunculus asked about the comfort of the brothers Elric. He assured them that the soldiers outside could bring better seats, a table, food, and most certainly beverages. He was rather incessant on the last point.

Even with the distractions, Lucifer finally waddled to his own chair and sat. He eyed the boys excitedly as he started. "As I said, I promised to start from the beginning. You'll have questions; I'm sure. My only request, dear Edward and Alphonse Elric, is for you to hold your questions. Some may be answered in the tale I weave."

He held up and waggled a finger with a 'tut tut' before Edward could interrupt. "It's all true; I assure you. Every. Last. Word." He rubbed his chin as he collected his thoughts. "I suppose it all begins with why I'm here, _before_ I even came into being." He looked to the young Alchemists greedily. "I _need_ powerful Alchemists to restore my fractured soul."

Again, Lucifer stopped Edward from interrupting. "As I said, I'm sure your questions will be answered as I weave my tale. Please Full Metal, I only request for your patience." His chubby grin impossibly stretched his face before he continued wholeheartedly. "As I said, the tale starts with a yearning. I awoke, born to serve the Shadows, and I _yearned_ for something I did not understand."

He laughed riotously. "The Shadows took everything! They ingrain _fear_ into their servants – their tainted, awful, _foul_ servants!" The laughter died from his speech, but he still sounded hysterical. "I won't deny that we are tainted creatures. We are born of sin and stupidity." He swung his arms as if to envelope the room. "I'm sure you are perfectly aware."

Lucifer slapped his large hands to his massive thighs. "I am not one. I am not whole." He nodded his head. "You see already the painted tapestry, but it is marred by shadow. Allow me to wipe away your ignorance, young Alchemists." He pointed to his chest. "You see before you the form of Greed! I coveted an unknown desire, and I took steps to make it come true!"

Lucifer's tale started far in the past. He told of a time centuries ago, before Corsair's violent history set it on the course of greater technological knowledge. The grief left in the wake of war gave birth to the seven sins of Corsair. Thus, their tale began.

* * *

Greed awoke in a cold, damp dungeon. When he tried to move, he could only struggle against restraints. He opened his eyes to blinding sunlight as it filtered through cast iron bars. He did not recoil. He stared into the burning rays, scarring his retinas. He _wanted_ that burning globe! He tried to reach out and grab it, but voices interrupted his ravenous desire. The restraints did not much help either.

He jolted and tried to look around the room. His retinas healed with a burning, red flash. Intact once more, a wide grin split his face. Though he could not turn his head to see them, he _yearned_ for the owners of the voices! He struggled to break free of his restraints, and then the door to his cell opened. His maniacal laughter reverberated off the cobblestone walls.

"Somebody put a muzzle on him." The commander bellowed furiously. His subordinates immediately obeyed and shoved a gag over Greed's disturbing grin. A long silence followed as the captors exchanged items and shuffled about in whispers. Finally, the commander spoke again. "Have you confirmed he's the same as the others?"

"Sir, we have confirmed the mark. However, we are awaiting your command to confirm the creature's abilities." Unlike the commander's husky tone, the first subordinate spoke in a pitch betraying youth. He even squeaked like an adolescent.

"Well, get on with it." The commander sounded annoyed. He did not appreciate waiting. Greed heard more shuffling before the commander thumbed through sheets of papers. "The head office wants this, huh? Fine! I'll put my office's stamp on the orders."

The commander walked clear to the other side of the room. No, he walked just outside the room. Greed thought of a hallway. He heard a furious swipe. Perhaps the commander signed one of the papers with a felt tip pen. After a few moments, a loud _thud_ reverberated through the hallway, the room, and his skull. He was certain the commander used his official stamp.

The commander walked back into the room and shoved the orders into one of his subordinate's arms. He sounded slightly pained as he spoke again. Greed thought he smelled blood. Perhaps he signed the paperwork in blood instead of ink. "Now get on with it!" He punctuated his words as he impatiently tapped his foot. He stood in place and watched as two of his subordinates approached.

A wizened voice spoke up to Greed's side. "As you can see, he bears the strange mark on the outside of his left hand." He paused and hummed. "It appears to be some foolish creature eating its own tail." He took a step back. "We can also confirm the…original owner of this face died in the latest war between royal houses." Obviously, _who_ he was in life was far less important than _that_ he was.

"Our sorcerers' call these creatures dolls." The subordinate was an adult, young and pompous. The eldest man grunted. "Oh yes master, I forget. We have confirmed this specimen neither human nor doll. I apologize for my rash judgment. However, we now have orders to authenticate this specimen's identity."

Okay, Greed was not sure he liked where the conversation was heading. He hiccupped when cold steel touched the top of his left hand. Did they not mention a mark? Then he felt pain – searing, antagonizing pain! He felt as if they wanted to burn, peel, and hack the skin off his hand! He had to do something. He had to stop them!

The blade broke with a satisfying _twang_. Greed heard gasps of shock, and he renewed his struggle. However, the restrains held fast. He struggled for several, long moments before he gave up the fruitless endeavor. When he gave up, he remembered the pain. With a muffled yowl, he felt and saw the burning, red flash.

Greed stared in wonder at the ceiling. His hand was yet again immaculate. He tested and flexed his marked appendage. The pain was remarkably gone! Then again, he felt depressingly weaker. His mind raced for an answer. He _ached_ to know.

The youngest subordinate broke the long silence. "Sir, we can now confirm Specimen Number Zero-Zero-Four is a doll. Under project directive codenamed Lilac Bluff, we are to contact the Ministry of Wartime Mages. How do you wish to classify the doll, sir?"

The protracted silence unnerved Greed. He did not like how long the commander took to answer. "We've found four of these unclean creatures, and each has a unique ability besides that absurd healing." He spat angrily to his side. "What do these sorcerers _want_ with such rubbish?" He walked over and looked down at the doll.

Greed saw his captor for the first time. He was grizzled and scarred. He wore armor that probably camouflaged him well on the field of battle. "That first…" He looked to his side. "Doll was it?" Perhaps his subordinate nodded in response. "…doll…" He spat the word. "…sprouted razor sharp claws. The second tried to change into another body. The third had uncanny perception."

He tapped his chin in thought. "The sorcerers appreciate irony. Perhaps I'll classify you 'Boneless' for the official report." He waved his hand and walked away. Again, his captors left him to stare at the ceiling. The commander was not done, however. "Send the report upstairs. I want this filth out of my sight within the fortnight." There was a charged pause. "Oh yes, I should remember to give orders to properly weaken the specimen."

His captors left him alone to contemplate his fate. Greed heard the door to his cell slam shut, and the locking mechanisms slid firmly into place. Over the next several days, his only visitors followed the commander's orders. Early on, they killed him only for the burning, red flash to revive him. As he grew weaker, they restrained themselves to hacking off digits.

Otherwise, he was alone and unfed. Though he struggled against his restraints, he did not actually crave for freedom or even an end to the torture. He wanted to _own_ the torturers as his own pawns. He also did not crave food or water. The sustenance he wanted was different.

Finally, Greed heard the commander and a new voice outside his cell. The commander spoke down to his companion. "How many more dolls do you expect me to find for you?" There was no response. "Tch. You sorcerers are all the same. Anyway, I want subject Boneless out of my sight." The door slid open, and Greed heard two sets of footfalls.

"I suppose that is another of your 'ironic' names." The sorcerer sounded as old as the commander did, and he held an identical domineering poise. He grabbed Greed's marked hand and inspected it. "It has the same marking, and your official report indicates the same remarkable healing ability. Perhaps it is a factor of how it was constructed."

"I don't care how your kind rationalizes it." The commander spoke passionately in his venom. "I want this filthy creature removed from my command. I only let your kind wander this facility because Lilac Bluff forces my hand. I only put up with you as long as it takes to get that filthy creature out of my sight."

The ensuing silence felt like pregnant agony. When the sorcerer spoke, he sounded calm and almost friendly. "I'm sure you know the new regulations. After the incident with Noface, you are required to hold the doll for a fortnight. Toothless and Blindeye were difficult enough, but proved a point. After a time, the dolls grow tamer."

The commander growled. "You sorcerers are all the same. Cowards." He spat. Still, he relented. "You'll have your time. I won't go against orders." He paused. "You have one week to prepare. Don't expect any help from me. I won't authorize my facility's resources for the likes of you."

The commander stormed out of the room, but the sorcerer approached Greed. "Perhaps it is for the best that the ways of magic are fading from this land. The grief-stricken only use it as an escapist's tool." He paused to contemplate his next words. "I recommend you cease your struggle. Our Liege put Lilac Bluff into place specifically to study you troublesome dolls."

He stepped beside Greed and revealed his face. Without battle scars, he appeared younger than the commander did. His neck-length beard was the same faded grey as his hair. He wore a dark brown cape over his grass green robes. "In our studies, we have discovered the doll's greatest weakness. We shan't hold you by crude, physical restraints where we take you. However, it would be unwise to think our restraints any less real."

The sorcerer turned and walked out the door. Greed listened to the door slide shut. The locks clamored as they rocked into place. He listened as the footsteps faded into the distance. The humans thought him trapped and cornered, and they were probably right. Still, the struggle brought the smirk back to his chubby face.

Over the next week, Greed realized just how right the sorcerer was. He felt his body grow weaker. Each day, sorcerers entered to carve open his hand or slice off a digit. He grew used to the comfort of the burning, red flash because his armor took too much energy and concentration to manifest. At the end of the fortnight, he still smiled despite his one remaining comfort.

The sorcerers moved him from the command outpost, and the soldiers could not be happier to see them leave. While en route to the Ministry of Wartime Mages research facility, Greed learned more of his fellow dolls. The cantankerous commander named the previous three specimens Toothless, Noface, and Blindeye in order of discovery.

Though the sorcerers did not approve the names, Lilac Bluff prohibited new labels. Nevertheless, they cared less for the dolls. They were abominations of sin and stupidity. Fate forced the brokenhearted to bear their shame as dolls for attempting to reanimate human life. The lead sorcerer thought it poetic justice that the dolls wore the countenance of the targeted soul.

Greed listened in on what he could on the road to the research facility. The Ministry of Wartime Mages served one of the royal houses of the war torn country. Many feared or despised them for their magic, and the royals considered them a match for a dozen well-trained regular infantry. One side loathed sorcerers more than any other side, and they had gained the largest foothold. The Corsair royal lineage held the largest territory of any royal family.

Greed also learned details that did not feel right. The sorcerers used magic to alter the nature of objects around them. They drew formulae inside circles. There was a definite sense of science rather than arcane in their art. The words sorcerer, magic, and doll simply sounded as awkward as the name Boneless.

Greed was especially attentive when details of other dolls cropped up.

Toothless was a voluptuous, tall female with hip length, sawdust brown hair. She exhibited an identical mark at the center of her clavicle bones. She also grew razor sharp claws from her nails, and they tore through most known substances.

In his true form, Noface was a tall, handsome male who wore black hair in a simple buzz cut. He displayed his mark in the middle of his left thigh. He also had many faces. He could morph his body into any countenance he knew.

Blindeye was muscular with wide shoulders and simply shaved his head bald. To the sorcerers, his left eye looked horribly disfigured. However, it held his mark, and it seemed to give him extraordinary visual acuity.

Greed understood the irony of the names. Toothless had the meanest bite. Noface used faces as an arsenal. Blindeye observed the world as nobody could. He was Boneless, a frightful creature with an unbreakable body.

Halfway to their destination, a group of mercenaries waylaid the small caravan escorting Greed. They were highly skilled and flew the banner of the Corsair royal lineage. They arrived in full anticipation of the sorcerers' magic and riddled the battlefield with gun and mortar fire. It was a massacre.

Under normal circumstances, the sorcerers might have repelled the mercenary troupe. They wrote intricate formulae underneath their robes to blunt and spread out the impact of conventional weapons. The mercenaries used the formulae to their advantage. An opening hail of gunfire dedicated the magic to one purpose, but the interspersed mortar rounds ripped through their defenses.

As the mercenaries celebrated their total victory, Greed crawled from the rubble. The mercenaries observed the strange turn of events. They approached him carefully with weapons drawn. A mortar landed near him, blasting off an arm. He wailed in pain and clenched the remaining stump.

The mercenaries grew bold, and Greed finally realized a deep, disquieting hunger. He looked at the men approaching hungrily. He no longer saw them as objects to acquire. He no longer saw conquest or felt any deep yearnings for worldly possessions. No! He wanted their souls!

He launched at the nearest mercenary and bit into his neck. He tore flesh and felt hot blood dribble down his chin. The burning, red flash returned, and he felt his arm grow back. A bullet pierced his shoulder as he dropped the lifeless body. The burning, red flash closed the minor wound, but he did not yet have the energy to put up his defense.

He needed one soul, just one more soul. With a giant leap, he avoided more gunfire and landed on his next victim. He felt the mercenary's life rejuvenating his weakened body! He gulped down more blood, but it did not sate his hunger. He realized what he needed as his defense, his _shield_, encased his body.

Greed let out a riotous laughter, and the mercenaries froze momentarily. As he flew into action, they opened up with everything they had. His armor seemed impenetrable. Their bullets simply bounced off, and the mortars only barely slowed him. They thought the concussive force might at least frighten him, but his bloodlust did not abate.

Only half the mercenaries managed to retreat. Greed ignored them and hunched over his last victim. He needed souls to survive. He knew consuming their flesh was meaningless. He looked at the sorcerers. Their souls were long out of reach. He had to find a concentrated source of human souls, or he doubted he could later form his ugly, carbon armor.

Greed looked around. He really had no idea where he was. The research facility could be in any direction. It was not as if the sorcerers told him their chosen route. There were dangers to heading on any course, but he could handle it so long as there was a human soul to consume.

He narrowed his eyes. Something just did not sit right. He was not out to kill every human he ran across. He wanted to dominate them. They were _his_ **_pawns_**! He had to find another way. He looked around. First, he had to survive.

Greed looked to the sky. He felt his yearning return. Yes, he could survive on that thought. He _coveted_ his continued existence. He grinned. He had big plans for the small world. Everything – every man, woman, child, and object – would be his.

He held a deeper desire. He found it difficult to identify, and he knew it would be more difficult to sate. He still had to seek it. He _ached_ to feel complete. He felt fractured, divided by untold distance. He sought something he did not fully comprehend. It drove him forward – always seeking, always searching.

The next decade was harsh. Greed might find a settlement and hunker down just long enough to take a few souls. He learned the hard way to be cautious. The local townsfolk grew very suspicious if too many people inexplicably disappeared.

As he washed the blood from his chin along a riverbank one spring morning, a shadow crept up on him. He jumped in initial fright. "Oh my, aren't you jumpy." The woman was soft-spoken and utterly ordinary. Her dark mahogany hair just reached her shoulder line. "I just wondered why you smelled so different."

"Excuse me?" His ill used voice sounded hoarse and barely above a whisper. His chubby hands flexed involuntarily. The woman felt dangerous.

She wiped the corner of her mouth of saliva. "You smell different. I've never smelled anything like you before." She licked her lips in barely contained ecstasy. She approached menacingly, mouth agape.

Greed barely registered the mark on the center of her tongue before he threw up his shield. She bit into his ultra dense, carbon armor and almost bounced off. "I'm nobody's prey!" He roared angrily as he thrust his hardened arm to penetrate her chest.

She simply stood and held out her tongue. After several long moments, she looked down at her chest. It closed up as the chubby man backed away. She looked at him curiously and released hold of her tongue. "Why couldn't I bite you?"

Greed grew excited. He was at a distinct advantage! His shield blocked her ability. His face split into an overconfident grin. He lumbered towards her. Not used to fighting, she poorly dodged. He tore into her flesh with sickening ease.

Sucking her finger in disgust, she turned and ran. He gave chase. She was _not_ getting away! She was his trophy! His maniacal laughter rang out across the countryside. She healed slowly, so he knew she grew weak. She probably had few souls and no reason to seek more. Eventually, she simply tripped and fell face first into to the paved, dirt road.

She held back tears as he approached. Her nose looked broken as she contemplated him. "Why can't I bite you? Why do you smell dif-…?" She spoke no more for Greed consumed her. The burning, red light outshone the sun as nauseating _crunches_ and _snaps_ reverberated across the countryside.

Greed even licked remnants of his prey off the paved, dirt road. He grunted and cackled not unlike an excited lunatic. He stood up straight and savored his victory. He felt stronger than ever. He felt closer to his goals than he ever dared dream. He also felt the hunger of Gluttony.

He looked to the sun, much as he had all those years ago in the cell where he awoke. He let the scorching orb scar his retina. Her name was Gluttony. They were not dolls. They were Homunculi. The sorcerers were Alchemists, and they practiced alchemy not magic. The world made a whole lot more sense, but his mind still felt fuzzy.

Greed the Homunculus – not doll – returned his attention to the road ahead. He was more aware of his surroundings than he ever was before. His desire to own everything conflicted with a sudden desire to eat everything. He shook his head to clear the forming cobwebs.

He understood his desires better than ever before. He had to track down the other Homunculi and consume them. In order to feel whole once more, he had to unite the sins strewn across the country. He tilted his head with surprised realization. He knew five remained.

Over the next score, Greed tracked down leads. He also caught up on current events. The Corsair royal lineage nearly had control of the entire country. They wiped out the Killion royal lineage, and the Ministry of Wartime Mages serving them fled into the surrounding country. The three Homunculi – Toothless, Noface, and Blindeye – they captured took the opportunity to become scarce.

Few Alchemists remained, but Greed no longer cared. He never considered them useful. Instead, he concentrated on tracking down Blindeye. In addition to Gluttony's enhanced olfactory, he found greatly enhanced vision the most useful.

A cool autumn breeze spread across the land before Greed sniffed out another Homunculus. He followed his nose until he found an old man living outside a small settlement. The old man glared him down as he approached. He hated his luck. The old man failed to match the description of any Homunculi he knew.

Well, far be it for him to miss out on an opportunity. He rushed headlong towards the small cottage as his shield enclosed his body in the bliss of invulnerability. The old man jumped and ran with greater speed than should have been possible. Still, Greed gave chase.

He lost sight of the old man in the settlement, but he never lost the scent. He tracked the scent to a girl with her face pressed against the glass pane of a candy store. He acted as if he would stroll past her when he stopped and grabbed her shoulder. "You can't hide from me, Noface."

He relished the expression of fright on 'her' face as he opened his mouth wide. The burning, red flash enveloped his tongue as he bit off the male Homunculus' head off in one mouthful. The people on the street screamed in terror as he casually consumed the rest of Envy. Ah, his true name made much more sense.

Greed fell to his knees in abject pain, and tremors racked his body. The other personalities attacked his mind! He yowled as he regained control, and fog lifted from his mind. Of course, he understood why he was in pain. He absorbed too many souls without understanding the consequences.

With Envy's fragment, Greed learned better ways to absorb human souls. He returned to the cottage on the outskirts of town. Along the way, he morphed his countenance into the sorcerer he met over thirty years prior. He shambled to the side of the house and found the well pump. With hardly any effort, red water sprang forth.

Greed gulped it down with great vigor. He felt more rejuvenated than he had in a very, very long time. After a moment to stare at the burning orb in the sky then healed, as was his peculiar habit, he took bucketfuls of the red water to the bathtub within the cottage. He soaked for hours while he contemplated his next move.

With Gluttony, he found it easy to track and ultimately eat his target. With Envy, he suspected he could sneak up and, if necessary, trick his quarry. He hoped Envy's many guises could trick Blindeye just as his armor had repelled Gluttony's gullet.

Envy helped him in other ways. After eating him in the guise of a very young girl, he found his face plastered on bulletin boards in nearly every settlement. He had to skulk around in different bodies. He sometimes played mix-and-match to create unique appearances. He even traipsed around as local fauna or lounged as local flora.

It took only three more years to find his next target. Greed felt almost disappointed to find Toothless, but he felt her offense complimented his defense. He decided to face her head on, and he regretted his judgment. His defense was impenetrable, but she easily kept him at a distance.

Even if her razor sharp claws failed to penetrate his dense armor, she pinned him against the wall. If she felt cornered, she cut open an escape route. Worst of all, she collapsed her escape route in on him. Ultimately, she eluded him. Oh, he still smelled her, but he needed a different plan of attack.

Greed stalked his newest prey for months. He learned her habits. He concentrated on her interests and stomping grounds. She actually succeeded in blending in with society. She received top billing at a gentlemen's cabaret. Her paycheck was outstanding, and she owned one of the nicer houses in the settlement.

Greed worried about his prospects. Toothless rarely found herself without company. She even hired an accountant, butler, and a few maids to watch over her estates. He had to surprise her and avoid a long, drawn-out fight.

When he had all but given up hope, Greed witnessed his one chance. She sometimes invited men into her house for a small fortune. Though accompanied by a guest, she was alone in her large house. It finally paid off to eavesdrop as a bird.

Greed took on odd jobs around the settlement, and he continued to spy on her. He formulated a plan as he saved every bit of money he earned. He had to match her tastes, after all. He designed a handsome male and used Envy as the template. He even created a suave personality. With a small fortune in hand, he called on the services of Lacy Lilac, as irony had it.

Toothless – Lady Lilac suspected nothing. She hurried her aides from the premises, and she almost savagely ogled her client's sculptured body. Greed created a magnificent model to reflect his prey. He took nothing for granted. He wooed her over fine wine and a savory, full-course meal. He waltzed with her to slow, romantic music.

Greed played his expected role. He flirted. He groped. He joined her in bed and rolled around in playful preparation. As he stared longingly into her eyes, she closed hers and leaned in for a passionate kiss. He touched his lips to hers, opened his mouth wide, and bit her face off.

She sunk her razor sharp claws into his flesh, but it was too late. Greed felt the welcome burning, red flash on his tongue, and he simply grew stronger as he chomped large chunks of her flesh. As he gnawed her bones, he felt a familiar yet new sensation. Ah, her true name was Lust, and he felt her insatiable longing for physical contact.

Greed stood and wobbled towards the bathroom as his rotund form returned. His mind felt hazy as the new personality mingled. Drawing from Lust's memories, he turned the knobs in the tub in a unique combination. After a moment, red water spluttered forth. He virtually collapsed into the half-full tub as it continued to fill.

The next morning, he awoke with a start. Lady Lilac's aides returned and knocked at the front door. Greed franticly wracked his brains for a plan. It took several moments, but he finally decided a course of action. He used Lust's form to send them away. With her voice, he told them she was leaving, and he fired them with substantial severance pay.

They left. They were sad to be out of work, but they were confident they had enough to get by until they landed their next positions. Greed observed the sight with a hint of amusement. They were reliable, so he doubted they would find any difficulties in life. With a stretch, he elected to stay for the rest of the day.

His first three and thirty years were interesting. He awoke a prisoner of the Killion project directive Lilac Bluff. He was one of four subjects. Well, he only knew of four. He learned of the existence of three more, and he learned more as he consumed more sins. He had already devoured respectively Gluttony, Envy, and Lust.

Greed persisted in his hunt. He sought any clues, and he kept up with current events and trends. Like Envy and Lust, he decided to blend in with society. He contained the voracious appetite of Gluttony, as he no longer needed to hunt humans for souls. With his newfound knowledge, he unearth springs of rejuvenating red water.

The stuff was toxic to humans. He bought land deeds on the cheap whenever he ran across a large enough well. He grew stronger, and his influence eventually matched a minor royal. He bought off mercenaries for protection as he dealt with the most influential royal lineages.

It greatly slowed his search, but he made connections well worth the hassle. It took almost a century, but the Corsair royal lineage finally won out. They decimated the other royal lineages; though, they kept a few as bloodstock. They were little more than convenient concubines to maintain and strengthen royal bloodlines.

With invaluable contacts, Greed easily tracked down Blindeye and the remaining two. He chose to leave the unknowns alone, for the time being. They stuck together and made a formidable duo. Before he could chase down Blindeye, Corsair's newly minted Ministry of Arcane Regulation wanted a favor. They asked him to hunt down Alchemists – the proper term he taught them.

Greed reveled in the task. He might have pursued them just for the fun of it. As it was, every living or dead body was worth priceless information on his true game. With his help, the Ministry of Arcane Regulation all but eliminated alchemy from Corsair's borders. They enthusiastically supplied the information he cherished.

He studied his soon-to-be adversaries carefully before making his next move. He waited over a century and a half for his inner most wish; he could wait until he felt assured of victory. He refused to rush to his own defeat.

He finally caught up to Blindeye. It only took a century and five and sixty years. Of course, his foe saw him coming. Blindeye's sight was uncanny, truly remarkable. He seemed to predict Greed's next action, and he proceeded to wipe the proverbial floor with him. He never let armor form, and he wove around claws. Blindeye hacked off limbs and killed Greed dozens of times.

It was not a pretty sight.

However, Greed arrived with backup. Full of cold fury, he initiated his one strategy. It really was petty, but he laughed as mortars rained from the sky. He felt his armor comfortably encase his entire body for the first time. He elongated deadly sharp and ultra dense claws.

Blindeye stopped and circled. His disfigured eye rested squarely on the rotund Greed. He found exactly what he was looking for and lunged forward. He plunged his weapons deep into his foe's chest and eyes, but his body split in half before he could disengage.

Greed laughed as he watched his quarry twitch on the ground. Half of his body disintegrated as the burning, red flash attempted to make his body whole. Greed knelt down with a grin that split his face. He chewed Bli…Pride in ecstasy.

The ecstasy lasted only a moment. Perhaps four additional personalities were too much. They fought angrily to gain control. He felt his power surge as he convulsed on the ground. He was vaguely aware that Corsair soldiers carried him off.

He awoke in the atrium of a new rising star's mansion. Jovan Isovar was the son of the current king and a concubine. He had risen swiftly through the line of succession almost on wits alone. He was shrewd and a master swordsman. He was also a genius inventor set to take hold of the world for his own.

He shared something in common with Greed, and he needed the Homunculus.

"You have captured the all-seeing eye." It was not a question. Jovan stared at Greed's newly acquired, disfigured eye. The mark was plain to see, and it was ugly. Still, he admired the disgusting orb. It seemed to pierce through to his soul.

Greed nodded. He was unsure where such an alliance would lead, but he saw no point lying. He only had two sins left to capture, and the Isovar name had some influence in Corsair.

Jovan narrowed his eyes. "I have an invention that will open the Corsair royal lineage to new avenues of conquest. However, I have many enemies. I cannot see all with normal eyes alone. I have many things, but I cannot crush an enemy I cannot see." He left his statement hanging.

Greed scratched his chin. He motioned his host to continue, and the young Isovar half-eagerly obliged. "It is a machine that can stay aloft on its own power." His eyes glowed excitedly. "I have been working on it near my entire life, but I am ready to put theory to practice."

Greed understood the benefit. He put on his ever-widening smirk. Yes, he could work with the young heir's growing influence. The flying machine might even propel him right to the top of the line of succession. However, he had his own goals. "My dear Prince Isovar, I must ask what I get out of the deal. You achieve certain fame, and I must put off my hunt."

Jovan sneered angrily. "My house shall be your house! Is that not enough?" He was incensed. He offered the filthy creature the highest honor a non-royal could possibly receive. "My resources shall be at your disposal, and your petty quarry will not escape. What else could you possibly want?"

Greed had the young heir dancing in the palm of his hands. "I offer something to benefit us both. I saw it in the void between sleep and awake. I'm sure you've heard of Alchemists, so I'll cut to the chase. I need you to revive the Ministry of Wartime Mages as your own."

Jovan felt taken aback. "You ask something preposterous. We have no use for Alchemists in this day and age. We are better and more refined. Besides, the Ministry of Arcane Regulation would stop us. They might even arrest us on charges of sedition. I am only a concubine's son."

Greed chuckled mirthfully. "My dear Prince Isovar, you underestimate yourself. You are now _ninth_ in succession to the throne, and I hear by guile alone. I'm sure you can figure something out. With your flying contraption and Alchemist fodder, the king might even abdicate the throne to you immediately."

Jovan thought about the proposal for a moment. The Homunculus seemed serious. However, he was the one to round up most of the Alchemists by himself. The prince decided to satiate his curiosity. "You show a rather sudden change of heart. You eagerly hunted down Alchemists before. You killed almost as many as my Liege Father had executed."

Greed frowned and nodded regretfully. "Yes, it is a mistake I could not foresee. As I said, I only saw my blunder recently." He pointed to his disfigured eye. "The mark is an ouroborus, and it has shown me how to concentrate power into a ring garnet."

"Concen-…" Jovan shook his head in disbelief. "Perhaps I could divine a plan. I have been given leave to build an army, and I'm sure I can convince my Liege Father of the benefit on a very…unorthodox request. However, I would know the name of this ring garnet."

"It is called the Philosopher's Stone, and it can make the world dance for you."

The negotiations did not last long. Greed secured a contract signed in blood, and he started the search for the conspirators against the house of Isovar. His new eye took him high and low. He regaled royals, and he parleyed shifty bar dwellers. He loitered in many disguises, and he sniffed for clues. He even used Lust to make people drunk on his presence. He often used Envy to create countenances both comely and homely – for seduction or the dropping of eaves.

When he found the conspirators, he sought to destroy their reputation. Jovan Isovar did not elaborate on 'crush' in their contract. Nevertheless, they fell quickly from favor. He used their faces to embarrass the royal family into anger and blood feuds.

One conspirator survived at the bottom of the line of succession. The king's ire saw some moved to mere bloodstock houses. They were lucky.

The king ordered well over half executed. They died only after they watched Jovan Isovar propelled to fourth in line of succession. The last thing they saw from the chopping block was his grin.

Free to complete his work, Jovan invented powered flight for Corsair. He secured first in line of succession and permission to take custody of the remaining Alchemists. He formed the _Hoarfrost Brigade_ with the dissolution of the Ministry of Arcane Regulation. He fulfilled his end of the contract more than pleased with Greed's performance.

The Homunculus was incredibly delighted. He furthered his deepest desire by securing his strongest ally yet. He still had to capture the last Homunculi, but he knew where to find them. With the might of the _HoaHHoarfrost Brigade_, he marched on a rebel settlement.

Greed did not care for semantics. The settlement was likely innocent. Jovan wanted to test his new army, especially the Alchemists and new arsenal of gunships. Of course, Greed recognized the settlement. He stared giddily at the ruined fort where he awoke. The town once sponsored the Killion royal lineage.

The _Hoarfrost Brigade_ absolutely routed the unsuspecting villagers. They died from gunfire, mortar shells, fires, or asphyxiation. Greed rather enjoyed the show. He watched his hard work and ambition blaze a bloody path. Sure, he would rather have the villagers as pawns. He was not foolish enough to try to stop the cycle of events he set in motion.

The gunships really stole the spotlight. They rained death from above like nothing else could. They were slow, lumbering beasts to be sure, but nothing could touch them. They proved to be Jovan's life work.

The Alchemists were almost a disappointment. They lost much of their former glory due to the Ministry of Arcane Regulation. Greed had killed children with more skill than the eldest Alchemist present. The regular infantry easily outperformed the new war mage division. However, he had other priorities.

His disfigured eye saw them first. A young boy stomped towards him with an ouroboros on the flat of his left foot. A young girl coughed as she followed with an ouroboros over her left breast. Greed could barely tell them apart. Their silhouettes were vaguely different, so they appeared adolescent.

They shared blazing red hair and shining emerald eyes. Greed liked their highlights. The boy wore his hair to his jaw line, and the girl splayed her hair into two ponytails.

"Well that explains a few things…" Greed started, but he did not finish. The boy ran full bore and punched. The rotund Homunculus did not bother to dodge. He let his wide grin split his face before he felt the pain.

Greed looked down and jumped away. He gripped his side and watched the boy absorb his stolen flesh. Okay, he needed a change of plans. He tested his shield. Nothing _appeared_ stolen. He lengthened and retracted his claws menacingly. He wanted to get them off their game.

He failed. Hard. The children proved more of a challenge than Pride. He predicted their movements, but their bodies held no concept for physics. The boy absorbed and regurgitated matter without changing shape or actually using his gastrointestinal system. The girl was _a living water fountain_!

The _Hoarfrost Brigade_ was useless. The boy actually enjoyed redirecting bullets and explosions. The girl was _a living water fountain_! No seriously, _the girl was a living water fountain_! How was he supposed to even fight that? He gravely doubted he could stun her long enough to consume her.

His eyes widened with a flash of brilliance. He made a beeline for the soldiers. As he shoved them aside, he blended in by transforming into one of them – a gaunt, lanky one. As the boy and girl approached undamaged, the _Hoarfrost Brigade_ broke rank and fled. The twins looked around for their foe and locked on.

The boy caught up first and tackled a rotund, fleeing soldier. He laughed as the man struggled, and the girl caught up. As he absorbed the soldier, he tried to determine his new powers. The rotund Homunculus covered his body in thick, black armor and even pushed it out as claws. He tried to duplicate the results when a burning, red flash erupted underneath them.

The twins watched the gaping maw close around them. They stared perplexed as a massive tongue wrapped around their startled forms. They clasped tightly to each other as Greed consumed the last of the Homunculi. He had taken advantage of their ignorance. They thought he simply donned a soldier's jacket.

He laughed as he returned to his normal form. He had finally united the fragmented sins. He felt power coursing through his flesh. Then, the world shattered before him. He fell into a dark, unforgiving void. He screamed noiselessly in torment like nothing he had ever felt. He heard voices all around, but he was blind and mute to the world.

He swallowed Wrath and Sloth, and their fractured souls joined his own. No, he had to regain control! He had the desire, and he had the gumption to make it happen! He sought to reunite the fractured sins, the fractured soul. Everything was his! The world belonged to him!

Greed awoke in Jovan Isovar's mansion. He glanced in a mirror and saw seven faces reflected back. With a jolt, he looked behind and all around. Nobody else occupied the room. He glared back into the mirror, but he saw only his own reflection. He shook his head, and the first heir to the throne walked in.

Greed actually felt happy to see Jovan. The High Prince spoke first. "My soldiers tell me you passed out screaming after you took your prize. What happened?"

Greed thought about the question for a moment. He really did not feel complete. The deep desire to be undivided still existed. He shook his head. "Sometimes my meal fights back." He patted his stomach. "In any case, the _Hoarfrost Brigade _performed beautifully. The gunship commander was brilliant."

Jovan nodded. "They've been compensated fairly." He stood straighter, and his tone was serious. "Where do we go from here? You told me they were the last Homunculi. I admit; I am not fond of releasing my greatest asset." He paused before honestly amending his comment. "…no matter how filthy."

Greed laughed. "I have no intention of leaving just yet. I may even stay to serve your family into the future." He had bigger plans, but he felt no need to reveal anything. He made alliances to serve his own purposes.

Jovan liked his answer. "Very well, but I'm sure you have plans for the short term. I could even arrange a political marriage. I could convince my Liege Father to make you a Duke or Governor. I might suit you. You could have the old home town of Killion for a bit of poetic justice."

Greed shook his head. "I need time to collect myself. Even now, I feel an internal conflict. I might lash out and strike uncontrollably." He chuckled derisively. "I have an isolated mansion. I think I'll spend some time there to recuperate. The two centuries since I awoke have been hard, but they have paid off nicely."

Jovan agreed. Though the Alchemists proved almost useless, he saw their advantages. The Ministry of Arcane Regulation meticulously destroyed everything related to alchemy, so they lost millennia of research notes. Jovan would not live to see the Philosopher's Stone, but his descendants would inherit his will.

Conversely, the gunships were a huge success. With improvements and modifications, they nearly single-handedly subjugated new provinces. When the former king died, Liege Jovan Isovar led Corsair into stunning conquest. Corsair almost doubled the territories under her borders.

With an expanding populace, the royal lineage experienced a small political upheaval as a new monarchial system came into place. The line of succession remained flexible to allow the most suitable to rule. However, they decided to divide the growing kingdom. Though the royals bickered, they created new titles and laws of governance.

For his part, Greed stayed out of the way for many years. He only visited Jovan – newly appointed Grand Sovereign – on rare occasions, but they celebrated at each event. The six sins proved difficult to tame, so he kept his visits short. Eventually Jovan passed away, and his successor took the throne. He died, and the next generation took over. She died, and another king took the throne.

The entire time, Greed dove deeper into his mind. He often slept in a pool of red water, and his strength only grew as scores passed. One day, his mindscape came into clear focus. He stared at his six companion sins – Gluttony, Envy, Lust, Pride, Wrath, and Sloth.

His voice failed, and they argued and accused. He had no idea how long they kept him prisoner in his own mind, but eventually he broke free of their control. He yelled at them to fall silent, and they grumbled. He understood better than they did, so they complied under protest.

Greed explained what he learned as he absorbed them. They already knew their names. They knew what they were. He avoided those topics for more important details. He explained their origins. They were born from the Gate of Truth to serve the Shadows. They collectively shivered as the truth washed over them.

He clarified what he could. They were fractured segments of the same soul. The Shadows implanted personalities into each fragment. They became distinct and separate entities. Regrettably, the fragmentation left their souls bleeding valuable energy and at odds with each other. The fragmentation resulted in a desperate need for human life energy, and the need yielded a territorial disposition.

Normally, they needed to consume Philosopher's Stones to survive, but Alchemists in now Corsair were too incompetent to produce them. Out of necessity, the Homunculi took souls directly from humans or absorbed them from the toxic red water. As Greed consumed the Homunculi, the fragmentation lessened, and they bled less of their precious life energy.

Amalgamated, they were stronger than ever. As long as they stood united, they were nigh invulnerable. If they bickered and argued, they were more vulnerable than an infant was. With some reluctance, they agreed to share ownership. They demanded a new name, and they decided to entitle their vessel as Lucifer. They appointed Greed their representative to the outside.

They agreed he had the experience and drive. After all, he also revealed that they lacked one fragment. The shadowy realm between the two worlds separated and hid the last fragment. It was beyond the impenetrable Gate of Truth. The Shadows purposely left one fragment out of reach, where only especially skilled Alchemists could reach.

The other sins rather hated the news. They caused a deafening mental uproar. It took a very long time for the sins to calm. It did not take much to understand their anger. In order to recover the fragment, a massive amount of alchemic energy was necessary. It would take an Alchemist of not only great skill but also fortitude and natural ability.

The Alchemists of Corsair were millennia – if not longer – from accomplishing such a feat. Their cause seemed hopeless until Greed reminded them of their unique abilities. The Shadows gave Homunculi ouroboros to mark their sin, _and_ they gave each a distinctive ability to punish trespassing humans. The Pride ouroboros could see past the Gate of Truth to demolish alchemy.

The collective used the all-seeing eye a little differently. They needed to acquire the right Alchemist to regain the last fragment. They needed to find the right Alchemist to make them complete. They sought the Gate of Truth to perceive a path that the Shadows closed to them.

At first, the images made no sense. Lucifer lost track of time as the collective interpreted the images. They puzzled them together and tried to find their temporal relevance. The task infuriated them. It almost seemed the Shadows actively worked against their endeavors. Then, they felt inspiration.

A great explosion created a great well of alchemic energy. It snaked through the Gate of Truth. A young man with golden hair harnessed the energy to… What? They did not recognize the alchemy. The Alchemists of Corsair were inexperienced and incapable of replicating such formulae.

The vision zoomed out. It zoomed far, far out. The young man faded to a field. The field faded to the outskirts of a city. The outskirts faded to a city and surrounding countryside. The countryside faded to a country surrounded by war torn borders. The country was landlocked, and the sins knew the name. The country's name was Amestris.

Lucifer opened his eyes. His course was clear. He studied everything he could with the Pride ouroboros. He perfected his body with the Wrath ouroboros. He terrified enemies of the Isovar royal house with the Sloth ouroboros. He used the Gluttony ouroboros to erase unwanted nuisances. He used Greed, Lust, and Envy to rejoin society.

The sins cooperated, and Lucifer found multitasking easy. He learned the culture and language of Amestris. He helped improve gunship technology. He seduced royals and helped position the most useful. Royals highly regarded Lucifer, and they sought after him constantly.

Lucifer watched and waited. He watched as Dante and Hoenheim progressed alchemical knowledge in Amestris. He saw new Homunculi born through the same sins and stupidity. Instead of quash them, Dante and Hoenheim used alchemy to tame and control them. The humans sought eternal life with the Homunculi's support, and they led Amestris from the shadows.

Eventually, Lucifer enacted his final preparations. He found the right support, and he ensured the _Hoarfrost Brigade_ followed him. Spartan Isovar was Jovan Isovar's descendent, and he shared the same ambition and guile. His daughter showed greater potential as a leader, but Greed found Spartan better suited for the last phase of his master plan.

They trained the _Hoarfrost Brigade _for the rigors to come. The land was different from Corsair. For those from the motherland, it was large and diverse. It ranged from tropics to desert to ice capped mountains. The people were hearty, and they were nasty when provoked. They also held different values.

They prepared all soldiers for superior alchemy. They discouraged looking down at the inferior technology. They taught core personnel the language and culture of Amestris.

All went according to plan, until Lucifer witnessed Edward and Alphonse Elric disappear into the Gate of Truth. He believed his plans ruined. Nonetheless, he pushed forward. He had to assume the brothers Elric would return.

If the mass of alchemic energy went unchecked, it might destroy everything he worked so hard for. It might exterminate known existence. It might raze the very world!

No, Lucifer had to trust the brothers Elric would return. The Shadows hated humans who trespassed into the between, but they valued balance above all else. They maintained the steady flow of souls across worlds, and one could not exist without the other.

The golden-haired Alchemist had to restore order and balance to the Gate of Truth.

* * *

Lucifer leaned forward as he finished his tale. "The rest, as they say, is history." His grin impossibly split his face once more. "I know so much about you because the Gate of Truth saw need of you, and I have a use for that mass of alchemic energy. I know your beloved country because I studied it for over a century as I prepared."

He chuckled. "My dear Edward and Alphonse Elric, I gain everything from all this. My soul will no longer be fragmented. I shall know my true personality. I shall achieve every Homunculus' dream. Freedom."

Edward silently contemplated for several long moments. Lucifer gained much from his deal with Corsair's royalty. He cleverly set up a win-win situation. He felt certain the proffered diplomacy was not a ruse. The Homunculus needed skilled alchemy, and the surest path was shrewd trade agreements.

Lucifer left nothing to chance. The _Hoarfrost Brigade_ was obviously his favorite. He helped found it, and he maintained influence within the royal families. He helped a concubine's son rise through the line of succession and become king. He helped his subsequent family hold onto power.

Edward met Lucifer's eyes. The Homunculus was perceptive. If negotiations broke down, he could draw Amestris and Corsair into war. There was a chance that Lucifer could trick Edward in the ensuing chaos. When the wash of alchemic energy came, an innocent suggestion could turn everything around for the nearly complete Homunculus.

Edward stood. "I have to think about it." He refused to lie. For ill or fortune, he had to think hard about his next move. He stared at Lucifer and hoped to discern something in his excited eyes. He saw nothing as his brother stood.

Lucifer stood. "Of course my dear Edward Elric, you still have time." He nodded encouragingly. "You still have plenty of time. I don't demand an immediate answer. That would be cold. Barbaric." He laughed genially. "You have only just returned from another world, after all."

Edward turned to leave, and Alphonse almost spoke their farewell. However, a question entered the elder Elric's head. "How do you know which personality is the right one?" The brothers turned, and Lucifer's exuberant expression surprised them.

"Ah, you touch on a very important point." Lucifer spoke unabashed. "Well, the point is rather simple." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "We _don't_ know!" He giggled and laughed as if he had just shared a naughty secret.

Edward and Alphonse looked confused. The latter spoke up. "If you don't know, what will happen when you acquire your last fragment? You can't expect to continue living with so many divergent personalities."

Lucifer nodded. "Of course we don't." He shook his head in mock disappointment. "We know perfectly well that only one personality can occupy a human soul. We cannot separate our personalities from our respective fragments, but we understand that much at least."

Edward scratched his head and opened his mouth, but Alphonse preempted him. He did not feel a rude or sarcastic comment would help the situation. "Have you determined which personality will take the reunited soul, then?"

Edward crossed his arms with a _harrumph_, but he agreed with Alphonse's question. If ownership of the soul was a point of contention, they might have something to take advantage of. However if it was not, then they had a hard road ahead if Lucifer indeed turned out to be hostile.

Lucifer split his face with a wide grin. "You brothers know exactly the right questions to ask. You hope we bicker and fight over ownership of the soul." He quietly applauded their expressionless acknowledgement. "It is something we discussed at length. It is something we have told none in Corsair. It is something we save as a special privilege for you."

Edward and Alphonse knew. They still had to hear it, but they knew the answer to the most important question they could have asked. Lucifer continued when their bodies relaxed with acceptance. "It is a long answer, so I hope you'll indulge me."

"The shadows sent seven fragments to Corsair and kept one hidden in the Gate of Truth." He chuckled. "Maybe I should say 'each region' instead of Corsair. The seven sins of Amestris were much the same." He shook his head. "No matter. Where was I?"

Lucifer finally stood. "The Shadows gave each fragment a unique personality. Perhaps the personality fit the fragment. Your encounters with the Amestris sins give evidence to the idea at least. Whatever the case, it is impossible to say which personality is compatible with the soul. There's a strong possibility the soul will reject an incompatible personality."

Edward nodded. "It makes sense. If the equation isn't balanced, the formula won't work."

Lucifer tilted his head one way. "Perhaps." He shook his head. "You understand the point, but you use chemistry where biology is more appropriate."

Edward looked ready to punch the Homunculus. "Get on with it!"

"We understand, dear Edward and Alphonse Elric. We understand all too well." Lucifer chuckled jovially. "We have an equal chance of acquiring or not acquiring the soul. When you finally reunite the lost fragments, only one personality can have it. We have agreed to quietly relinquish all claims. We shall not fight the final result."

Edward scoffed. "You expect us to believe you'll simply walk away? You have a one-in-seven chance." He pointed accusingly. "You admitted it yourself! You started off as _Greed_! You want the world. I doubt you'd let some inconvenient agreement get in your way."

The grin never left Lucifer's face. "I suppose you hope to sow seeds of internal conflict. I admire your dedication, skilled Alchemist." In spite of his cordial tone, he sounded distant and cold. "I admit; Greed thought along those lines. However, he yearned for freedom and a feeling of completeness above all else."

He laughed, and his tone became light and inviting once more. "Greed weighed his fondest desires. He had to. He had no choice. He had to weigh a desire to rule over everything against the yearning to feel complete. It should be obvious by my presence that he chose the latter."

Lucifer waggled his finger once more. He seemed to enjoy lecturing. "The other sins would know if he lied. Besides, you're calculations are wrong." He watched the stunned looks on the young Alchemists faces. "There is a one-in-eight chance that one of the sin's personalities will hold to the soul."

He rather enjoyed the idea. "It's entirely possible that the eighth fragment holds the real personality. It's entirely possible the soul committed such a horrible transgression that the Shadows decided to _divide_ it as eternal torment!"

* * *

As I mentioned in _The Path We Walk_, I have been distracted by _way_ too many things happening at once. I had a lot of this chapter finished last year. Since then, it has seen a lot of rewrites and tweaks. The over all story remained the same, but the delivery - I hope - improved.

As always, I hope you enjoy the new chapter, and I hope to see some constructive criticism. Of course, outright flames will be ignored.

Story Word Count: 10,032  
Story Page Count: 18


	11. Chapter 10: The Devil in Me

**The Devil in Me**

Rose quietly opened the door to the hotel room. She heard Calvin and Cybil hard at work on some mechanical project. She noticed Bunny leaning against the hallway wall smiling into the bedroom as she gently closed the door. Putting on a cheery face, she joined the girl with automail legs.

"The twins really are something'." Bunny stated with no small hint of pride. She certainly had not taught them anything related to automail, but she had watched them grow. She was at least somewhat responsible for their education and well-being. "They're working on some cold-weather enhancements Winry assigned them."

"Oh?" Rose mused. She did not know much about automail, and she lived in an oasis in the middle of a desert of hot sand. "Is there something special about these 'cold-weather enhancements'?"

Bunny held in her snicker as best she could. Not wishing to offend, she explained. "Winry ran across a client from Northern. They use different materials up there to keep automail users from catching frostbite or death of cold."

Rose nodded. "Winry's really learning all she can about automail." Bunny nodded with an affirmative grunt. "She's really doing all she can for Ed…" She practically breathed out in a whisper.

"Huh?" The former thief started. "You say something?" She watched the dark and light haired girl shake her head in negative answer. With a shrug, she returned her gaze to the budding automail mechanics.

It was hours before they heard a knock at the door. In the interim, Bunny and Rose retired to the kitchen to fix a four-person lunch. They delivered Calvin and Cybil their share, and the despoiled dinnerware still littered the bedroom floor.

Rose excused herself from conversation with Bunny and approached the door. "Coming." She called out clearly. After a moment, the deadbolt and doorknob turned with the ministration of a key on the other end. She paused and waited. Either the brothers Elric or Winry had returned.

However, she was not surprised to see all three at the portal. She was somewhat surprised to see Hawkeye, Armstrong, and Sheska escorting them. The escorts said their farewells and departed for the elevator. They need not stick around; after all, either Edward or Alphonse alone was more than enough to handle most threats.

Once out of earshot and secured beyond a bolted door, the events of the past day almost slipped through the lips of trusted, lifelong friends. Before they could continue, Rose interrupted them with a motherly grunt. She smiled kindly and invited them into the kitchen and the comfort of chairs.

When they arrived, they discovered Bunny cleaning dishes. She smiled and waved and continued her work with a happy tune. She was used to housework in Rockbell Automail of Rush Valley. She was also used to greasy fingerprints left on dishes. It was hard work, but it was certainly honest.

Once seated, Rose started the conversation. "It's almost time to start dinner. I hope you at least thought to stop for lunch." Edward grumbled, but Alphonse and Winry at least assuaged her worry. She smiled and continued. "I hope your investigations went well. The soldiers and curfew are, well, worrying."

Edward scoffed. He could not help himself. "Not nearly as worrisome as that _monster_." The elder Elric did not really know where to start, so he just started at the top of his list of troubling revelations. "Lucifer isn't just any Homunculus. He's the biggest threat I've ever run across, and he somehow has _manipulated_ an entire country for his own, treacherous plans."

The genius alchemist shook his head in disbelief. "He's like Dante all over again, but he has the immortal body of a Homunculus. At least Dante was a human in the end who used _those_ creatures as pawns."

"Brother…" Worry laced Alphonse's voice.

Rose paled at the mention of Dante, but she managed to force on a brave face. "If he's a Homunculus, he must have a weakness." She paused when everybody looked at her. "Right?"

Edward stretched across the table with a look of defeat. "Well yeah…" He furrowed his brow. "Normally." He leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just a few problems, unfortunately."

Alphonse nodded. "He's from a foreign land we've never even _heard_ of." He remembered the world map of their parallel, twin world. He fought off a sense of vertigo as he tried to comprehend the distances between countries.

"Haven't they offered some sort of trade agreement?" Rose stated plainly and received disbelieving stares. "I mean; they haven't started anything yet. Couldn't you convince Mustang or the Consulate to let you represent Amestris?"

"I don't know what they're planning, but I don't trust that Regent character." Winry grasped her shoulders and rubbed her arms with a shiver. She met Edward's glower. She recognized the worry for her intermingled with rage towards anything that might hurt her. "I met an engineer on one of his ships."

Winry explained her day first; though, Edward knew his day revealed the bigger threat. Still, knowing the enemy was never a bad policy. She met the engineer Qin Fai and learned about his wife Biyu, one Eugene Lovecraft, and a country called Minoa.

"Hmm…" Edward tapped his chin as Winry concluded her tale. He thanked Bunny as she placed dinner in front of him. "Well, that explains why Lucifer chose Spartan Isovar for his ambition."

Winry spun her head so fast that her hair whipped her in the face. "What do you mean _Lucifer_ chose the Regent?" Calvin and Cybil walked in at that moment and paused in confusion. Rose coaxed them to sit and eat.

Edward finished chewing before he answered. "I said Lucifer was a monster." He sighed. "I don't really know how he did it, but he's an amalgamation of _all_ Corsair Homunculi." He shook his head. "He admitted as much, and explained exactly how he gained influence with the royals of Corsair." Noticing a question in his mechanic's eyes, he stopped her. "After dinner. I promise I'll explain everything."

Discussion ceased, and they ate with deliberate sloth and silence. After talk of conquest and slavery, all other topics seemed as dangerous as a field of landmines. Still, dinner ended, and Bunny collected dishes. With the sound of running water, the brothers Elric revealed just how dangerous and monstrous the being called Lucifer really was.

Explaining certain details to the naïve twins took most of the evening, but, in the end, everybody understood the threat Lucifer posed. His wish seemed simple at first glance, but it left too many unknowns. They knew he was willing to use any means necessary to achieve his dream, but they knew little else.

At his core, he was destructive. He helped raze the alchemic base of Corsair, and he relished his role in the genocide. He specifically chose two members of the Isovar line for their ambition and ruthlessness. Worse, he even used decedents of the alchemists he murdered as if they had no rights of their own.

With a sobering reality to absorb, they made their sleeping arrangements. Edward rented the room across the hall to share with his brother. Winry decided to take a couch in their room, and she refused offers for a bed. She really just needed to feel near her boys, especially the one who had her heart.

Bunny and Rose insisted Calvin and Cybil take the bed of their hotel room. Bunny forced Rose to take the couch. She felt perfectly fine with a pillow, blankets, and the floor. The arrangements were similar to before Rose and the brothers Elric arrived anyway.

They fell into uneasy sleep to the pitter-patter of a steady rain. They slept through the night even as nightmares caused some to toss and turn. When they woke, they all welcomed the warm, inviting sunlight as it filtered into their respective hotel rooms.

They ate breakfast together in the room Winry and her crew rented. It was a far lighter affair as master and apprentices discussed the different materials used for cold-weather automail. Edward listened in with genuine interest. If he ever traveled to Northern, the information might just come in handy.

As Rose finished her meal, she demurely pushed her plate away and looked around the table. In spite of her near noiseless effort, she attracted everybody's attention. _"Well, now's as good a time as any."_ She cleared her throat. "It was nice to see everybody again, but I need to get home to my son in Lior."

A direct approach was always best. Calvin and Cybil barely knew her, but the already felt attached to her. Winry frowned but nodded. Edward pretended not to care. Alphonse wore a grimace of understanding. The younger Elric spoke up. "That's really too bad, but we understand. When do you plan to leave?"

Rose sighed. "I'm going to the station after I help clean up here. I want to catch the train this morning; I promised my little one I'd see him tonight." She looked to Edward. _"I know you won't say anything. I'm not the one in your heart, but it still hurts."_ Her grip tightened on the hem of her dress as she held her emotions in check.

Winry noticed and looked to the golden-eyed Alchemist. _"You're so dense, Ed…"_ Putting on a smile, she pushed away from the table. "Then we'll see you off. We're friends, after all."

It did not take long to clear the dishes and clean the mess. They walked slowly to the station and made small talk the entire way. At some point, the topic shifted to Rose's young child. "Oh right, you missed his naming ceremony; didn't you Al?"

Alphonse nodded. He was eager to hear all about it. Edward tried his best not to display his emotions. Memories of Dante flashed through his mind's eye. Still, he was curious. Rose was happy to oblige. "He was so rambunctious that day." She reminisced with a smile. "He just couldn't settle down. He had to be at the center of everything, so I think the elders found Aster an appropriate name."

The ceremony was really more a birthday where the elders and mother decided on a name for a baby who was old enough. It was a leftover vestige of the worship of Leto. They no longer drew a symbol of the sun god in wine upon the child's brow, and bathing in the sun seemed mostly replaced by watching children play out in the sun. It felt like a more 'official' birthday party.

"Rose and Aster, huh?" Edward finally commented as they approached the train station. He nodded. "Yeah, I'll have to visit the flowers of the oasis sometime." He chuckled at his own joke even as Alphonse palmed his face and Winry rolled her eyes with a sigh. Bunny laughed mostly at him, and Rose merely blushed.

Calvin and Cybil joined Bunny in mocking Edward as they approached the ticket counter. The military police stopped the crowd as they approached. They would only allow the traveler, Rose, beyond the ticket counter for security reasons. They even refused the authority of Edward's silver pocket watch.

Eventually, they were forced to give up. They said their goodbyes to Rose outside the train station. She turned and took a step before steeling her resolve. She shifted her weight back a step and twisted to directly face Edward. "This'll be my last chance."

Before Winry could protest or anybody else understand, she placed her lips against his. The kiss did not linger beyond a moment. She pulled away from a stunned golden-eyed Alchemist. She turned her attention to the blue-eyed automail mechanic. "You take good care of him."

Rose turned and ran up the stairs and into the station. She knew it was not fair to attack Edward as she did, but she knew it really was her last chance. If Winry really was her rival, she lost to her long ago. She fought back tears as the conductor punched her ticket and let her board. She found her seat and sniffed. She refused to cry.

For the moment, she simply watched the blur of people stream by as they either embarked or disembarked. After a time, she noticed one figure did not blur into the shuffle. Rose focused on the woman as she simply stood and stared at her. Her hair was raven black, and her eyes shone like emeralds.

The stranger's hair was short, and Rose could not help thinking long hair might have suited her better. She thought she saw black flames in the young woman's sclera. Then, time seemed to return to normal. Travelers passed by at a normal pace, and she released a breath she did not realize she was holding.

Shaking the cobwebs from her head, Rose finally introduced herself. "Why hello; I'm Rose. Did you want something…?" She left room for the other to introduce herself.

"Hmm?" The young woman only just seemed to take notice of Rose. She seemed interested in something else entirely. "Ah yes… I suppose you could call me…" She paused as if to gather her thoughts. "…Celia Livingston. I'm here to…" She paused inexplicably. "…observe my dearest Pot's… I mean Jeremiah's wake."

Rose nodded in understanding; though, Celia left her question unanswered. Jeremiah Twain's private wake would take place in two days. The young woman was either family or _very_ close. "I'm sorry for your lose."

Celia appeared distraught as her attention and mind wandered. "What do you know of Alchemy?"

Rose blinked. The question might seem out of nowhere, but she knew enough to fear the consequences. "You shouldn't walk down such dark corridors, no matter how much pain you feel." She placed a hand over her heart as she remembered the false prophet's words. "I think you should talk to my friend, Edward Elric. If you ask around, you should be able to find him. He's a State Alchemist."

Celia appeared quite suddenly a hair's breadth away from her face. "I see. You reek of Human Alchemy, but you've never actually touched it." She scrutinized Rose's chest and backed away. She looked at her own with some disappointment as she cupped her breasts for barely a moment. With a sigh, she dropped her arms to her side and continued. "Edward has stepped through, so maybe I'll talk to him."

Rose did not know what to comment on, so she decided to focus on Alchemy. "I don't know what you've heard about Ed, but he's a good guy…" She sighed. "…a great guy…" She looked down but managed to continue even as her voice wavered, and she returned to gaze to the young woman. "What exactly do you wa-…?" She looked around in mild shock.

Celia was gone.

* * *

Winry did not know if she should scream or storm in one direction or another. She stood in shocked silence and watched Rose retreat. _"That cheat!"_ She felt the stares before she noticed Rose was completely out of view. She faced Edward, and she felt her temperature rise.

She turned on the spot and beat her own hasty retreat.

For his part, Edward was flabbergasted. He felt a prickle up his spine and turned to Winry. At that moment, she turned her attention sharply from the portal Rose disappeared through to his face. He saw glossy eyes. Those blue orbs were confused and angry, not on the verge of tears. Then scarlet red spread across her cheeks. His mind went blank as she turned to walk, almost run, away.

"What are you standing around for?!" Bunny practically yelled at Edward. He snapped to his senses and looked over his shoulder to her. "Chase after her!" She shook her head as he ran to catch up with her. "Boy's as dense as ever."

She turned to Calvin and Cybil. They blinked in the direction their master and the man they knew she loved retreated. Alphonse just shook his head and shrugged. He turned and waved over his shoulder as he headed into town.

"Come on you two, let's get ourselves lunch." The twins nodded in agreement with Bunny. She coaxed them to turn around before looking over her shoulder. _"I hope Rose didn't push them into this too quickly."_ She stifled a sigh. _"Nah, they've been into each other since before I first met them. They're just too stubborn to admit it."_

* * *

Edward caught up to Winry and seized her by the wrist. She twisted around with an angry grunt and just stared into his eyes. She twisted her arm fiercely, but he refused to let go. They stood in the middle of the sidewalk and just stared.

Some within the passing crowd stopped to watch. Some walked by warily. Others rushed by as they tried to ignore the seeming civil disturbance.

"Why are you angry?" Edward asked; though, he thought he knew the answer. He imagined he might react similarly if somebody kissed her.

"I'm not!" Winry yelled irritably.

"Winry…"

"I know!" Winry wrested her arm free. She rubbed her wrist absently. It did not hurt, but his touch seemed to linger.

Edward sighed. "I don't know what Rose was thinking." He looked up to a passing cloud.

"Why can't you just be clear?" Winry shot at him. She almost cringed. She was being unfair, and she knew it. Still, she pushed on when his attention focused on her. "She _loves_ you Ed! She fell for you when you told her to stand on her own two feet, and you can't even see it!"

Some murmurs ran through the crowd. They ranged from commenting on the lover's quarrel to news of the Fullmetal's return. The childhood friends were almost relieved to hear more comments about the Hero of the People. Apparently, his appearance and silver pocket watch caught more attention than the apparent argument.

Winry was thankful as she lowered her voice. "Why can't you just be clear, Ed?" She repeated her question and locked her blue orbs on his golden ones. "You always run off." She shook her head and held a finger to forestall his retort.

"I know. I know already!" She rubbed her eyebrows. "It's unfair to you. You want to help people with your alchemy." She stared at him long and hard, and she was thankful that he remained silent as long as he did. "What about you, Ed? How can you help _you_ with your alchemy?" She searched his eyes. "It's okay to be selfish every once in a while." She paused, an ache in her heart. "Isn't it?"

Names ran through Edward's head like a litany of failures. Lior. Nina. Scar. Dante. There were more – far more, but these names made him falter. "I've made so many mistakes, Winry. I failed mom. I failed Al. I just kept making mistakes. Hero of the People…" He laughed. "I'm hardly anything special."

"Don't you get it, Ed?" Winry's voice hitched. "You've done more than enough. You are called the Hero of the People because _the **people**_ chose to call you that. You didn't arrogantly declare yourself their hero. They welcomed you. They _embraced_ you!" She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Rose picked herself up off her feet, dusted off her knees, and walked _because you told her to_!"

Tears finally welled in her eyes. "You didn't have to leave." She tried to blink away the tears, but they only slowly trickled down her cheeks. "You didn't have to leave me! You foolishly leapt through the looking glass. You went somewhere **_I_**_ couldn't follow_. You did it all to protect people." She scrunched her eyes shut and shook her head crossly. "Why did you leave, Ed? Why did you leave _me_?!"

Edward took her cheeks into his hands and closed his eyes. He bowed his head and thought as his chin pressed into his collar. When he reopened his eyes, he stared into her watery eyes. "It was the hardest decision I ever had to make. I weighed my own happiness to the lives of people in two worlds…"

He wiped a single stream from her face. "I don't know if I made the right decision – to go or, in the end, to return. I…" Words were lost in his throat. Could he really admit it? He had originally hesitated to return to the world without alchemy because he wanted to be with her. He stumbled in his convictions and let Envy into his brain because he missed her. He _wanted_ to believe Envy. If he honestly thought about it, he could not even deny his half-brother knew something he did not.

Before he could find his wits, an explosion erupted from the historic district. The passing crowds broke into panicked cries, and hasty rumors passed easily off the tongue. Then, a loud rumbling issued from Central University. Finally, a terrified stampede entered the city from the west.

Winry pulled Edward's hands down and placed them at his side. She lingered for a moment and silently enjoyed holding his large, strong hands. She especially enjoyed the warmth the living flesh from one radiated. She closed her eyes and stepped back as she released him. After she wiped the tears from her face and eyes, she smiled at him. "Go on."

He looked to her in mild confusion. She turned him toward the stampede and pushed hard against his broad back. She admired his shoulders as she resisted asking him to stay and protect her in his large, welcoming arms. "You're the Hero of the People. Go help people with your alchemy."

Edward took a few steps forward and hesitated. He clapped his hands together and looked over his shoulder. "I'll be back. I need to clarify a few things."

Winry smirked. "You better be back! I'm not being left behind again."

Edward ran forward and crafted a megaphone from a nearby car. "Everybody calm down!" The street went silent with his authoritative command. Even the angry car owner looked cowed. "Now, the military police are on their way. Until then, find a safe place to hide or defend yourselves."

Calmly, he approached the car he borrowed material from. Winry watched as he clapped his hands together and returned the car to pristine condition. He even refrained from adding his own stylization to it. Again calmly, he walked in the direction the stampeded had approached from.

The crowds parted to his approach. A low buzz spread quickly among the citizens who watched. "Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, has returned." "We have the Flame and Fullmetal back!" "Hey, the Hero of the People said to calmly evacuate. Let's show him just how confidently we stand behind him."

Winry took in a ragged breath and released it after a moment. She followed advice, same as everybody else. She would return to the hotel and wait for the emergency to pass. She had a conversion to look forward to. _"I love you too, Edward Elric, and I'm not going to lose you again."_ She walked quickly and purposefully.

* * *

Celia walked out of the train station in time to see Bunny lead the twins away. She did not know their names, but she felt something familiar from them. _"Ah yes… Like that girl on the train, they are connected to Edward Elric."_ She looked further up the street. _"That boy feels familiar… There was a brother, if I recall correctly."_

She slowly followed the steps downward. The immediate past, present, and immediate future blurred together as she observed her surroundings. As she read the flow, black flames danced in her sclera. _"Amestris is caught in the flow of chaos. There are too many factors to read." _ She heaved a heavy sigh. _"Without the Right Hand of the South, I can't find any Shadows."_

Celia looked in the direction Edward chased after Winry. "A particular strong flow weaves its course." She smiled as she skipped down the sidewalk. "I think I'll have some fun before I meet up with another Cardinal."

The future raced into the present, which – in turn – raced into the past. Her vision danced with blurred images, and she followed the strongest nearby flow. She easily stepped through the crowd, unnoticed and unhindered. Eventually, she witnessed the most curious anomaly. She witnessed a blankness in the interwoven flow.

The black flames within her sclera seemed to burn with a renewed vigor. A smile crept across Celia's face as she picked up her unhurried pace. Soon, she passed Winry. Well, the blond automail mechanic was on the opposite side of the street, but she more sensed a strong connection to Edward Elric. With a nod, she added some urgency to her steps.

_"The chaos of this country is about to sweep everything into a great tsunami. I must at least see what gathers Shadows in such great numbers. I believe Edward Elric can help in that regard."_ Celia continued to watch the flow around her even as she made a beeline to the outskirts of the capitol city.

She clearly saw the chaos that threatened to severely disrupt the flow. A battle of the coming war already bloodied the streets of Central. Powerful assailants stood victorious over the broken bodies of fallen 'ordinary' soldiers even as studied State Alchemists approached.

Celia almost scoffed in disbelief. The State Alchemists were barely fodder before Shadows, for she knew from the flow what their opponents were. However, hope still shone for them. They did not know, but one outside her understanding of the flow approached. She was sure the blankness was Edward Elric, but she still wished to confirm her hypothesis.

She also knew that she had to meet him to understand why he stood outside her ability to observe the flow of time. As she skipped down the street, a hand landed on her shoulder. Within mortally imperceptible time, she studied how the concerned man might react. She decided to jerk away from his touch and back into the nearby wall.

"Whoa, sorry to startle you there little miss." The man's grey hair shone like silver in the bright sunlight. He raised his arms disarmingly. "That way's dangerous. You should head back into town and find some shelter."

Celia studied the man for a moment. He knew alchemy, but he was innocent of taboo. Still, she wondered how he noticed her. Then, she noticed the chains that bound his arms and legs. She turned and ran. She supposed her reaction was normal, so she turned the corner into a dark archway. She dispersed into shadow to avoid further pursuit.

The man sighed as she ran away. "That was not what I meant." He looked towards the center of town. "I saw a skilled State Alchemist head that way, so the girl should be safe. I can only pray for her safety as I carry out my final duty."

He sighed again. He hated leaving the girl to fend for herself, but his parole gave him no room to deviate. He followed the streets of Central to his destination. He only meandered to avoid unnecessary prying eyes.

* * *

Scythe glared at Hilda Furr, the Hot Ice Alchemist. She pointed a _gun_ at him. **A gun! **He expected some grand showcase of finely honed alchemy, but she used an ordinary firearm. Worse, she aimed a degree from his shoulder. She squeezed the trigger and _purposely_ missed.

He knew a mortal might recoil in fear, but he was Shadow Incarnate! She wasted a warning shot on him. As hot gases pushed the projectile forward, he crouched into a ready stance. He watched the bullet fly with his enhanced vision and almost laughed. Almost.

Scythe saw a moment too late his folly. He looked to her gun to see the alchemic reaction. She used alchemy to skillfully encase the bullet in _solid_ nitrogen. The instant the atmosphere encircled the sheathed projectile, the alchemic reaction no longer held sway over it. She timed alchemy and ejection perfectly.

The solid nitrogen underwent violent and explosive sublimation too close to his core. The cold gas froze nearly half his body, and the shockwave nearly shattered solidified flesh before he slipped into the comfortable confines of surrounding shadow. Then, he screamed in agony and _excitement_ as he returned to the physical realm.

He clapped with one hand against his namesake and licked what remained of his bloodied lips. "This is _so **very**_ sweet!" He launched at her and swung mightily. "I see it now! Hot Ice! You create an ice so cold that it _burns_!" He laughed recklessly. "Not many would think to _tame _nitrogen!"

She dodged and unsheathed a dagger to parry his instrument of death. He pressed his advantage of reach, and she fired three times point blank at his face. He escaped into shadow. When he reappeared, she studied him. "You're barely holding yourself together."

A smile crept across most of Scythe's face. The rest of his face still needed to regenerate from the initial attack. "I am not as delicate as you miserable humans." He refused to admit weakness. Even if one each arm and leg were little more than hunks of flesh held together and made mobile with shadows.

"Good." Hilda led the attack this time. Scythe laughed and swung his namesake. He thought to take advantage of his weapon's reach once more. Instead, she easily shifted her center of gravity and snuck under his guard. Before he could react, she eviscerated him. He disappeared into shadow.

Scythe stumbled backward in surprise as he reappeared. His wound did not appear as grievous as it should have. He apparently avoided the worst of it at the final moment. Hilda looked at her bloodless dagger. A hint of aggravation crept into her voice. "That's the problem with larger weapons. You don't expect your opponent to lower her center of gravity."

"Heh, you're awfully confident." He would not let her use the same trick again. He just had to take advantage of the shaft's reach. Still, she was better than he expected. He hefted his namesake in preparation, but her actions took him by surprise.

Hilda touched her dagger to the center of her pistol. Scythe curled his lips in annoyance. She even carved her _dagger_ with intricate alchemic runes. He looked around almost desperately for the reaction as the curved grooves shone with energy.

He looked down as he felt his waist boil and pop in a chemical reaction. With wide eyes, he tore away the offending flesh. He growled as his vision popped into clear focus within the confines of shadows. He watched the chunk of flesh explode.

Scythe clutched his side as he reappeared. He kept his distance and observed his surroundings. The unmarred portion of his lips twitched in irritation. _"This Hot Ice Alchemist uses nitrogen expertly. I didn't notice because she kept it inert and stable. She activated its explosive potential with chemicals laced on the dagger. Yes, her alchemy is indeed finely honed."_

Hilda chuckled as her opponent recalculated his strategy. "Can't exactly say I'm original. The Crimson Alchemist was a genius with explosives, but he preferred carbon." She shrugged. "I'm not a fan of making bombs out of people, so I found my own way."

Scythe growled. "Takes a much more aggressive personality." His lips curled into an uncontrolled smile. The challenge excited him as nothing else could. "This is _so very **sweet**_!" He laughed uncontrollably, insanely.

Hilda leveled her gun at her opponent again. This time, she aimed at his heart. "I hate to take my idiot brother's advice, but I think it's time I end this." She whispered to herself with a slight snarl. Her target noticed, and she squeezed the trigger.

In an instant, Scythe evaporated into shadows and reappeared standing on her shoulders. She leaned her head back as the edge of his blade pressed against her neck. "Don't forget. You're still just a flea!"

* * *

Despite his initial lunge, Lance ignored Jack Daniels and leapt into the crowd escorting Gwyneth Riggs. Blood fell like rain as he easily cut through the fodder. They surrounded him with rifles and bayonets. As well trained as they were, they could not hide their fear. He knew their reason. He looked like a demon out of their nightmares, covered in gore as he was.

His weapon was tall, and he managed to treat it as an extension of himself. It gyrated ahead of his vision, and more soldiers fell before the Lieutenant General could recoup from his initial attack, surprise, and folly. In the interim, his soldiers neither broke rank nor fled. Lance was mildly impressed. They held their ground for the sake of one, old woman.

Out of respect, he did not hold back. At the same time, he did not force the issue. If a soldier could no longer regain his feet, he stepped over him to the next. By the time Jack Daniels made his way to the formation, Lance had almost broken it utterly to expose Gwyneth Riggs.

The Lieutenant General skidded to a stop and dug his heals into the ground. With a twist, he pushed alchemic energy into his legs. Spikes erupted from the ground under Lance's feet, and he managed to force the dangerous Shadow Incarnate to retreat.

Daniels followed his opponent's movements. He rolled out of the way to avoid a punishing thrust. The dust and rubble seemed to sink slowly back to the ground. The Desert Alchemist held his hands stretched a few degrees from his body. He exposed his palms forward, and alchemic energy danced upon the very air. He controlled his breathing as he stared down the hostile.

Lance circled his target and used his pike to measure the radius. He refused to step into the apparent sandstorm until he fully understood its effects. _"Kelly Westford told us of this one. He was the pupil who surpassed his master. I suppose the Glass Alchemist fears the Desert Alchemist."_ He thrust his pike forward a few times to test any reaction.

He met resistance, but his spearhead returned clean. "Obviously, the sandstorm is your doing. Perhaps you hope to grind my weapon unto dust, but you only succeed in cleaning it." Like the other weapons of the Seven Judges, his pike did not follow human understanding of durability. Even if Kelly Westford feared his student's prowess, an Arbitrator only felt confidence.

Without further hesitation, Lance thrust forward with a powerful, linear jump. The sandstorm punished his physical body, but he easily slipped his spearhead through Daniel's ribcage. He twisted his weapon and tore it to one side. He allowed a smile to creep across his lips until his target crumbled as if dry sand piled too high.

He dispersed into shadows to escape the sandstorm. He reappeared as it died down, and he looked around. His skin was raw, tempered by countless and miniature daggers. He shook his head to dislodge sand and gravel from his hair and ears. He tried to rub sand from his eyes. _"I see. I think I understand the difference between the Sand and the Desert now."_

The Glass Alchemist specialized in confusing his enemies. He seemed to create doppelgangers that were each as fragile as glass. He wore out his opponents before moving in for the kill. Alternatively, the Desert Alchemist turned a distraction into an attack.

Lance closed his eyes and ignored the pain his human body felt. Though his nerves were on fire, he was quite aware of his target. He spun around and twisted his pike. He thrust the butt of the staff into Daniel's gut. He immediately jumped high into the air, flipped his weapon, and slammed it into the ground.

The Lieutenant General stumbled back with a grunt and quickly rolled out of the way. _"These Shadows certainly make a show. He didn't even flinch when I blinded him."_ He pushed his heels into the ground and twisted his toes inward. He held half-balled hands almost touching, palms inward. He sent alchemic energy to his extremities.

Daniels let go of the alchemic energy and finally unsheathed his blade. He grunted as he parried and lost ground. He looked down for a moment and received a punishing gash to his side. He held his side to stem the flow of blood. He slipped in a small pool, and his opponent pressed the advantage.

With a smirk, the Desert Alchemist activated the alchemy circles his heels left. Lance tripped over the blade that emerged and missed his target as he heard his shin snap. He looked down as he recovered. The alchemic trap nearly severed his foot. He lifted his leg to remove weight from it.

Daniels took several steps back. "Well, isn't this the sight. The Shadow is blind and nearly crippled, and the human is still fresh and ready." Of course, his vision blurred with pain and blood loss. He just refused to admit any weakness.

"You overestimate your chances, Alchemist." Lance opened his eyes. Though they appeared bloodshot, his vision had obviously returned. His exposed skin also appeared mostly healed. "I am Shadow Incarnate, and I recover much faster than you. Tell me, what chance do you have?"

Daniels tried to apply pressure to his heals. He grimaced in pain and gripped his side harder. "Okay, I see your point." He grunted. He needed his agility for his alchemy, and his injury severely diminished his strength.

Lance tilted his head to one side. "I admit; you are resourceful. You manipulate formulae in the midst of battle. It's an inventive way to use the environment to your advantage. However, you are out of options." He leveled his pike towards his target. "Now, do not make me repeat myself again. For the sake of the future, Consulate Member Jack Daniels, you must die!"

* * *

Axe and Bludgeon marched towards the formation protecting the Consulate members. They ignored the rifles and bayonets pointed towards them. They only took a passing notice of the State Alchemist presence. When a sniper fired from a distant rooftop, Bludgeon dispersed into shadows. The regular infantry opened fire on Axe.

Bludgeon appeared next to the sniper and smashed his arms with his flail. He leaned down as the serviceman writhed in pain. "You are neither Alchemist nor target, so I'll spare your life." He looked down to the bloodied field. "I'm not so sure my companion has the same restraint."

Axe dispersed into shadows with every attack. He took no damage as he weaved through the formation and mightily swung his labrys. The sharp edges of his colossal axe cleaved limb as easily as rifle housing. By the time his companion returned, the formation was utterly broken. "They send fodder to defend their representatives. Pitiful."

He crushed the skull of a rifleman who tried to aim his weapon. Bludgeon looked to the gore. "If we weren't extraordinary opponents, they might have shown formidable skill. As it stands, you have probably broken more families than resolve." He held no hatred for humanity, so he lightly inclined his head as a show of respect.

Axe breathed disapprovingly. "They are warriors all the same. It is a courtesy to show them their feebleness. If they cannot survive, it is their own weakness." He looked around. "Besides, I held back as best I could. They cannot bear cloven teeth."

Bludgeon shrugged. After a moment, they looked to the approaching State Alchemists. "They have not tasted the Gate of Truth, but they may still present a challenge." He twirled the blade end of his flail. He almost laughed as one kneeled to the ground to draw out a formula. "These babes are still wet behind the ears."

Axe nodded. "Perhaps we should end this before they are swayed by tragedy." He leapt forward and swept his labrys diagonally to cleave head from shoulder. He was mildly surprised as his target stepped to the side and caught the haft of his heavy weapon. His eyes widened as ground became sky to his vision, and he landed hard upon his back. He screamed as his blood boiled.

He dispersed into shadow and appeared next to his comrade panting. He felt his cheeks, and a heavy lisp muffled his speech. "Tshe brash bithed mah ayesh." _"The brat burst my eyes."_ He shook his head. His entire body was numb. "Nothso weth behi tshe e-arth." _"Not so wet behind the ears."_ He growled at his unclear meaning.

"It looked like he turned the water in your body to steam." Bludgeon approached carefully. He could not allow the other Alchemist to finish his formula. "It's a fairly common alchemy. The formulae to change the phase of water are easy to master." He fluttered his pommel blade ahead of his approach, and the offending Alchemist retreated.

Axe opened his lids to reveal eyeless sockets. He withstood the pain as his eyes regenerated. _"Arbitrator Bludgeon is correct. They use formulae to change the phase of water. I can recover quickly enough, but I do not believe their goal is to boil us. More likely, the kneeling Alchemist intends to rip our bodies apart with spikes of ice."_

Bludgeon grabbed his pommel blade and threw the flail end towards his opponent. He backed away, not daring to catch the spiked appendage. The Shadow immediately retreated and aimed to decapitate the kneeling Alchemist. With practiced precision, he leapt back as both Alchemists focused on the alchemic formula.

The very air seemed to condense, and, as both Arbitrators expected, spikes of ice erupted from the ground. The Shadows dispersed their bodies to safety and appeared outside the range of the small alchemic reaction. The Alchemists could not hide their worry.

Bludgeon laughed. "Have you recovered your senses yet, Arbitrator Axe? The sharpness of your labrys should match the fastness of my flail." He looked to his companion, and he was not surprised to see healed, bloodshot eyes.

Axe nodded. "I am recovered, Arbitrator Bludgeon." He looked to the conical spires of ice. "They show some skill, but they work best as a pair. We should separate them." With nods of agreement, they stepped forward and crushed the ice in their way.

Their eyes widened, and they jumped back as granite spikes jutted out along their path. The Alchemists, Consulate members, and Arbitrators looked to the side to see who approached. The golden-eyed Alchemist smirked as he clapped his hands together and leaned down. The Shadows prepared their defenses as alchemic energy sparked and crackled around him.

A dint appeared in the ground where the golden-haired Alchemists gripped a growing shaft. After only a moment, he held a curious, morbid sword. The edge was sharp, but he shaped the hilt in the appearance of a skull sticking out a tongue. "Don't tell me you threw a party and didn't invite me!"

"Master Fullmetal?" The State Alchemists reacted in wonder. They knew Edward Elric from tales, but they had never met him. "We had no idea you had arrived. We meant no offense!" They spoke in unison. They also looked remarkably similar.

Edward looked at them and studied the battlefield. "Okay, you guys can fall back now. I'd recommend erecting a wall of ice. Things'll get messy from here on in!" He sprang forward and swung his morbid sword in time to parry Bludgeon's pommel blade. He kicked the retaliatory flail away with his automail leg and still managed to duck under a sweep from the labrys.

He twisted onto all fours and scrambled away. Axe and Bludgeon followed his movements with some wonder. They continued their assault as he crawled form one point to another. Eventually, he rolled over and kicked himself to his feet. He jumped and shifted his center of gravity. He landed on their shoulders and stole a look to the twin Alchemists.

Edward nodded in satisfaction when he saw the solid wall of ice. He swept his blade at his opponents when they attempted to retaliate. Before they lost their scalps, they dispersed into shadows. Fullmetal nearly fell flat on his face at the sudden loss of footing. He managed to land gracefully enough in time to watch the shadows gather and reform.

He released a heavy sigh. "Great. Now I've got some beings from the Gate of Truth to deal with in addition to that annoying Homunculus." Of course, he already knew Shadows were in Central. Kenneth Troy obviously hosted one, after all.

A short distance away, Celia came to a stop. "Oh…" She cooed excitedly. "My dear Edward Elric, you found two fine specimens for me. Axe falls under the Northern Commander, but Bludgeon is most certainly a subordinate of the Western Commander." She chuckled. "Interesting. I'll have to see how the Alchemist who escapes the flow manages this situation."

* * *

Lloyd rose to his feet and hobbled to the window. The nurses might yell at him for disobeying the doctor's orders, but they did not know how quickly he could recover. He joined Steel Claw at the window and observed the city.

She sighed. "The others have already started." She grabbed the sill and leaned out to get a better look. "I wonder how long I can avoid my own responsibility." She looked back at her target. As a Shadow Host, he presented one of the greater challenges. She knew she was still superior, but she also acknowledged his ingenuity.

Lloyd worried for his fellow Consulate members. Gwyneth Riggs was old, but Jack Daniels promised to personally protect her. The Desert Alchemist was skilled, and Lloyd hoped his skill was enough to protect both of them.

Mustang found somebody to send to Julian Rivers' estate. He was unusually evasive. He knew the historian was more concerned with his estate than his life, but Amestris still needed him for stability.

William Pond and Alan Kingston refused to speak of their escort detail. He knew neither could use alchemy, but they did not take unnecessary risks. If their lives were in danger, they would accept the proper escort.

"Whahahahahaha!" Steel Claw started and nearly fell when Blunt burst into laughter. "You aren't worried about your task." She regained composure and leveled a glower at him. He barely protruded as a black substance from Lloyd's larynx.

She nearly growled. "Amestris will pay for so readily treading on forbidden ground." She folded her arms over her chest. "Alchemy is strongest in this country, so they have committed taboo the most. I only find it pitiful that some Shadows side with the humans who have trespassed where they do not belong."

Blunt chided her with a click. "We are remarkably humanlike." She leveled a spiteful glare. "Oh, don't give me that look. We're more powerful, but we don't really have the same freedom. We have a strict hierarchy we can't escape."

Steel Claw softened her expression slightly. Blunt continued. "However, we do share many of their traits. If we didn't have emotions, we wouldn't develop divergent personalities. You even fell in love with a Cardinal."

"Shut up!" Steel Claw stamped her foot. "We have no need for love. We exist in the inbetween as guardians of the Gate of Truth. We escort souls across worlds for the Cycle of Life. Our number is permanent and in perfect balance for our assigned tasks."

Blunt laughed. "Oh sure, we do not reproduce. We don't even have genders. However, we have our preferences." He paused and accepted her fierce, malicious look. If worse came to worst, his best chances lay in breaking her mental state or turning her. "You fell for a Cardinal, and you feel rejected."

A guttural breath escaped from Steel Claw's throat. "You tread dangerously. I hope your host appreciates _you_ putting his life in deeper jeopardy." She knew both host and tenant had to remain amiable. Otherwise, the Shadow Host essentially fell apart. She spread her arms and bore her razor sharp claws. "I can hasten the job if you so desire."

Lloyd held his arms up to placate her. Blunt continued. "Now, now, it's not like I'm provoking you heedlessly." He chuckled.

* * *

Inside his mind, Lloyd had to question him. "It seems heedless enough to me. Do you really have to press this _particular_ issue?"

In the mind, Blunt looked like a mirror image of his host; though, his eyes were completely white. "We have to keep her off balance. As a Shadow Incarnate, she has greater reserves of strength than us as Shadow Host."

Lloyd sighed. "I get that. I really do. I just don't understand how attacking her affections will change anything."

Blunt nodded. "Steel Claw will be forced to attack us ahead of her own appointed schedule. We need to distract her long enough for Shadow Host Ken and Cross to return."

Lloyd blinked and tilted his head one way in thought. He paced for a moment before responding. "She spoke respectfully to Cross. Is he a Cardinal?"

"Oh, most definitely. He's the Southern Commander." Blunt chuckled and guessed his host's next question. "I think you understand my provocation now."

"This will not end well." He practically breathed the words out in a sigh. Lloyd scratched the back of his head. "Well, the least I can do is fight if I have to." He leveled a serious glare to his tenant. "How do we fair? Honestly?"

Blunt rubbed his forehead. "Remember that hierarchy I mentioned?" His companion nodded. "Usually, a Soldier shouldn't be a challenge to me. However, Scythe easily stood toe-to-toe with me."

"I need you to remember this. The Shadow Kingdom is the very foundation and rules over us all. The Cardinals are the four pillars that hold the passage together, and their Right Hands relay commands to the rest of the Shadows. They truly _command_ everything. You can tell them apart by the black flames in their sclera."

He paused for a moment. "However, the inbetween would be quickly overwhelmed with sheer volume of tasks. As powerful as they are, they rely on a multitude of Generals. We are named after characteristics, like Blunt or Sharp. We usually deal with rogue Homunculi."

"Beneath us, Soldiers are most often called to deal with particularly powerful Alchemists. Of course, they are only called to deal with taboo. I'm surprised so many have gathered, frankly. They are named after specific weapons."

Lloyd contemplated Blunt's words for a moment. "Why are you telling me this now? We've wandered Amestris together for a while, and you never even hinted at all this."

"Because, Alchemist, things have taken a definite turn for the worst. Only a General or better could gather so many Shadows together." He sighed. "I might guess _who_ we're dealing with, but I don't have the evidence. This whole effort is coordinated, _and_ they have chosen the title Arbitrator. Somebody plans to be judge, jury, and executioner – Adjudicator."

Lloyd closed his eyes gravely. "What punishment do they plan to execute?"

Blunt sighed. "Something that Alchemists won't forget about for a _long_ time." He chuckled. "Perhaps even something that will draw the pillars of the inbetween to this world."

Lloyd blinked in surprise. "If the central organization of the inbetween…" The word sounded strange to his tongue. "…comes to this world, how will it continue to operate?"

Blunt laughed. "Oh right, there's one more tier left to our hierarchy." He paused and took mock lecturing tone. "In reality, the lowest rank takes care of most of the day-to-day. The Scum make up the bulk of the inbetween, and they are the hands the grasp dumbly for every soul that passes through the Gate of Truth."

* * *

Steel Claw tapped her foot impatiently. Though the internal dialogue passed too quickly for human perception, she detected it. She hated being left out of any conversation, but she could not interfere. "If you're done playing house…"

Blunt chuckled mirthlessly. "Are you still waiting?"

Steel Claw motioned for the window. "I know you too well. I'll take you up to the roof." She clenched her fist tightly enough to draw blood.

Lloyd saw hesitation in her body language, and her voice was surprisingly cool. Perhaps his tenant understood her emotions better than he let on. Though he better understood their hierarchy, he still had no idea how they divided the formations.

Of course, he was more worried about current events. As Steel Claw took hold of him and dispersed into shadows, he only really wanted to scream at the world. A great war prepared to sweep the country into a fire, and nobody would see it until it was too late. The Arbitrators fully intended to kill the Counsel of Seven as their first declaration.

Lloyd Furr knew all too well how devastating a blow their deaths would be. The ensuing instability would leave a power vacuum, and he feared civil war might erupt along with everything else. The Shadows had no reason to fear Corsair. Whatever their ultimate plan, they moved at their own schedule. Maybe they picked up the pace, but it was calculated instead of panicky.

When he felt firm ground again, he looked around. Steel Claw released him and walked confidently to the rooftop access. She showed no fear of a back attack. She dismantled the lock to prevent interlopers from barging in. The Shadow Incarnate turned and beckoned Shadow Host to prepare.

Lloyd swallowed hard and clapped his hands. As he pressed his fore and middle fingers to his throat, he continued to contemplate the uncanny events of his life since committing the ultimate taboo. Blunt was content to watch the human world from a distance. At least he was until the flying contraptions from the other world attacked.

Lloyd did not understand what had changed, but he did what he could to rebuild Amestris. As he held Blunt in his blade form, he questioned what he could actually do. His continued existence weakened the otherwise powerful General. He also felt somebody else might fill his role on the Consulate much better.

"Don't think of leaving me, you foolish human." Lloyd and Steel Claw blinked as Blunt spoke. "Think about our circumstances."

Lloyd fought a growing smirk. Of course, he forgot. Blunt fundamentally believed 'human flaw' really meant humans could change.

Blunt laughed. "Exactly!" He exerted pressure, causing Steel Claw to pause. "Remember this, Steel Claw. Humans try and strive and constantly push forward. They have the strength to see the future, even through suffering. You can't say you're strong if you abandon your beliefs because of one moment of suffering!"

Lloyd's smirk spread as understanding washed over him. No, the provocation was not heedless. Steel Claw shook as his companion's words ripped her conviction out from under her. Her eyes reddened in rage, and she lunged forward.

Lloyd stepped forward and caught one claw with Blunt. He barely flinched as the other claw sunk deep into his shoulder. As blood soaked his hospital gown, he stared into Steel Claws eyes and the raging chaos in her mind.

"Tell me…" Blunt started calmly. "…do you really think human lives are so static?"

* * *

The groan of automail preceded Kenneth Troy and the window. He looked around the darkened office. The bitter scent of copper greeted him. He released a nasally breath as he stretched his legs to the ground. "I pondered why Arbitrators might attack the Counsel of Seven so openly, but I suppose now it makes sense. Has Kelly Westford's usefulness come to an end?"

The lights flickered on to reveal Kingdom in the doorway. Westford lay at his desk. A pool of blood slowly spread from his head and hands. His breaths were ragged, and he gurgled on his own blood. "What does it matter? This filth, even among humans, is beyond any salvation."

Kenneth looked to Westford with some pity. "He was old, and he represented the old guard." He stood his ground, but he knew better than to approach. Even if Cross was a Cardinal, his power as a Shadow Host severely dampened his chances in a straight up fight. "How did the Dante Faction aid your self-appointed duty, Adjudicator?"

The black flames danced in sclera hidden by a helmet. Kingdom actually chuckled. "You are as crafty as ever. Even if that human speaks for you, your wisdom and experience is clear." He walked into the room, but he stopped when the Shadow Host tensed. "You may travel with the wind, but it is hardly without purpose."

Kenneth nodded. He did not have to hear the question. "We…" He searched for the right word to neither lie nor reveal the truth. "…discovered this was a meeting place for Shadows. We figured it might be, well, prudent to investigate." He swallowed, a bit nervous. "Honestly, I had hoped to find a General or Right Hand."

Kingdom showed some signs of provocation. "This is righteous punishment from the Gate of Truth. The inbetween has passed judgment upon the blight of Alchemists in this land. We shall purge taboo and wipe clean the slate. In the long history of the worlds, all shall remember and tremble at the terrible mistake that was Amestris."

"Is that why you stand before me in that armor?" Kenneth growled; his sclera alit with black flames. "The Cardinals stand as pillars. We carry out the will of Shadow Kingdom." He shook his head furiously. "We voted on this matter already. This land is _not_ a blight!"

Kingdom shook his head. "You do not understand the scourge these Alchemists represent. They have committed taboo time and again. They make the same mistakes with nary a thought. They are not concerned with small lessons over time. You saw the blatant disregard for boundaries that Dante showed."

"Do not forget, friend." Kenneth spoke through gritted teeth. "We judged the situation by observing _both_ Dante and Hoenheim. While Dante showed no remorse, Hoenheim displayed a repentant heart and heavy soul. He worked to undo the aftereffects of his crimes, so we allowed the humans to solve their own problem. His own progeny stopped that evil."

"One example does not make your case, Cross." Kingdom stated coldly. "Dante led Amestris, and the people happily followed. She created the Great Tincture, and she repeated that tragedy multiple times at ever-increasing magnitudes. In her mad quest for immortality, she broke the greatest taboo and received naught of our divine punishment."

"We need not interfere at every transgression." Kenneth shook his head. "We have Homunculi to execute appropriate punishment." He held up a finger to stay the other's argument. "Do not say they are a vain attempt to teach humans a lesson. They have done well enough to teach Alchemists what taboo is."

"It is not enough that they know _what_ taboo is." Kingdom countered severely. "They do not understand to their marrow that they must not cross that threshold. It is the duty of the Adjudicator and his Arbitrators to make sure the lesson strikes home for all eternity."

Kenneth sighed. "The same argument Lord Penance makes every time…" He tilted his head. "Now is not the time to fight. Though our debate is as always enlightening, I bear tidings you must hear."

"What could you say that would change my purpose?" Kingdom almost laughed. "There is nothing in this world that could distort the inextirpable march towards justice."

Kenneth set a sober glower on the self-proclaimed Adjudicator. "The representatives from Corsair bring a nearly complete Homunculus. In its vanity, it seeks a perfect form. Worse than distorting justice, such a being would attempt to crush it."

Kingdom really did laugh. "Oh, you bring mirth to this morbid world." He paused and waved the other off. "The Homunculus poses no real problem. It will be dealt with in due course." He turned and prepared to leave.

"Before you leave, friend, consider something else." Kenneth prepared to flee as he leaned out the window. "Dante did not corrupt Amestris with alchemy. She corrupted the land with the deep-seated need for politicians to gather more power than any individual deserves."

With his peace spoken, he leapt to safety before spikes of shadow formed and crushed the window.

* * *

**End Notes:**

This story is now over 100,000 words and 220 pages long.

I noticed a _slight _temporal issue as I finished my storyboard and reviewed my notes. Namely, Rose was supposed to leave _before_ the attack on the Consulate took place. Hopefully, I made it clear enough in the first half of this chapter.

As a side note, I have no idea if I'm going to actually explain Celia's nickname for Jeremiah in the course of the story. Basically, he's a poet. Poet somehow became Pot... Yeah, it's very silly.

As always, I hope you enjoy the new chapter, and I hope to see some constructive criticism. Of course, outright flames will be ignored.

Story Word Count: 10,056  
Story Page Count: 19


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